A Red Haired Weasel and an Amazing Bouncing Ferret
by BlackMage3
Summary: Draco has never so much as even *liked* Ginny. But when he makes a bet that he can make her fall in love with him, will he be suprised with the outcome?
1. Return to Hogwarts, an Entry by Ginny

Disclaimer: Yeah, I SO do not even own any of these characters. But I DO own the plot. Don't touch the plot.  
  
A/N: Okay, so here we go. Considering the lack of response for my last Harry Potter piece, I thought I would try my hand at something a little more lighthearted. But there are a couple of things I guess I should add. The first is this: I have read Lamentations of a Starry Eyed Twit and all its counterparts. Although this piece was inspired by all of the aforementioned stories, nothing from this has been stolen or borrowed. The journal entries are done differently, there is no detail, really, about a Snape/Sinistra love story. If you are the writer of any of those pieces and you feel you have been somehow wronged, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE let me know and I will do what I can to ratify the situation.  
  
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Ginny Weasley  
  
September 1st 11:20 a.m.  
  
The train ride to Hogwarts thus far has been more than a little uneventful. Well, Colin Creevey keeps looking at me from behind his camera that he's pretending to examine. I mean, don't get me wrong, I am not under the mistaken impression that I have looks like a Veela or anything, but the guy *did* send me exactly 17 love notes this summer via his owl. Which would have been rather charming except Ron and Harry were there to witness every single one and kept teasing about what they believed was a sordid affair between Colin and myself. And did either of my parents step in to put a stop to this torture?   
  
Of course not.  
  
I guess I can forgive them, though, since they got me this journal as a 16th birthday present. Brand new and everything.  
  
Well, I guess it would be rather pointless to get someone a second hand journal. You know, since it'd already written in and all.   
  
…  
  
Harry just popped in to say hello, pointedly ignoring the glare Colin shot him. I guess I can understand his (Colin's) anger-for five years-ever since I saw him at the train station his first year- I gushed about The Boy Who Lived, driving my best friend up the wall. But I'm over him now. Have been since my 5th year.   
  
Even so, I hope Colin doesn't know any of the Unforgiveables.  
  
10:03 p.m.  
  
Not much has happened since my last entry. Well, I did have quite the unfortunate run in with Malfoy that resulted in about 5 minutes in witty banter (A.K.A: shouting of insults) until Professor Snape caught the argument and took 10 points from Gryffindor.   
  
Have I mentioned that I hate that man?   
  
No?  
  
Oh.  
  
Then I HATE THAT MAN!!!!  
  
I can't help but wonder how often he takes points from his own house. I bet it's a rare occurrence.  
  
*deep sigh*  
  
Just for today, I'll try not to get too bad about it. I mean, Malfoy's parents *are* in Azkaban, so I guess we should feel sorry for him. And I'm trying-really. But it *has* been almost two years and he *did* turn them in himself. And don't begin to think he's gotten some character-I made that mistake last year and almost got my arm bitten off.  
  
Nope. Same old Malfoy, just sans his psychotic parents.  
  
Uh….  
  
I mean, sans his nice, just misunderstood parents.  
  
I feel sorry for the guy..  
  
Really.  
  
…  
  
Okay, so I don't.  
  
What's wrong with a little healthy animosity?  
  
Dad says nothing's wrong with it at all (but I expect that, even though Lucius Malfoy is in prison, my father still carries around a great deal of anger. After all, the guy *did* try to kill me and all. Harry tells me things.), while my mother practically had a heart attack when I said that I hope both Mr. And Mrs. Malfoy rot in Azkaban and that if we're lucky someone will dig up information that will take Draco down with them.  
  
I know my mother loves me, I just expect that she's trying to be kind and forgiving. Which is fine.   
  
You know. For her.  
  
You don't understand. I *tried* to be nice to Draco. Told him I was sorry about his parents, even offered a peace treaty. The figurative kind, of course.  
  
To which he most hatefully replied, "Get away from me, Weasel. I do have allergies against fleas."  
  
Ugh.  
  
And in case you're wondering, I *did* inform my mom about this. She simply sighed and said, "One day, Gin, I guarantee it, that Malfoy boy is going to see the error of his ways. I just want to be sure that when that day arrives, you'll remember just how lucky you have been where he has been lacking, and are willing to forgive." She paused, the way she does when she's going to offer words of wisdom. "Honey, I know it seems like the most ridiculous thing in the world, but you've had so much more than he could have ever dreamed."  
  
I'm not dense. I know she wasn't talking about money, but a family and love. Which, of course, she is right about. I have been lucky there.  
  
Whenever I think about that day, I get kinda sad. I hate pitying that… creep, but now I do.  
  
Thanks a lot, Mum.  
  
She never says things like that to Ron. I mean, he hates Draco like no one else ever has or will, but she has yet to take him aside and read him the riot act. I saw her raise an eyebrow once.  
  
ONCE.  
  
But… Fine, I'll be fair. Lately, it's not like my brother spends a whole lot time talking about the youngest Malfoy, anyway.  
  
Guess who the new object of interest is.  
  
Wait. You get three guesses.  
  
You got it! Hermione Granger.  
  
His best friend. Well, one of them, anyway. Which, just for the record, is deeply amusing for *me.* She usually spends a great deal amount of time at the Burrow during the summer, and the smallest touch or smile can make Ron's ears flame.   
  
I can remember when I was like that with Harry. Back in the good old days. *grin*  
  
Well, I'm going to bed. Exhaustion and all of that. 


	2. A Fight and a Talk, an Entry by Draco

Disclaimer: Please, please, please, don't tell me you think I own stuff. HA! HA! Well, I don't, and never will.  
  
A/N: Wow, thanks for the reviews. Just a note about this chapter. Draco's journal entries, towards the beginning, anyway, are going to have a small undertone of sadness to them because of what he had to do. But don't worry. He'll get much better.  
  
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Draco Malfoy  
  
September 1st 8:32 p.m.  
  
I hate my parents.   
  
If one more person attempts to pat me on the back in sympathy or smile kindly I may throw up.  
  
But, honestly. Two years later and everyone thinks I'm still mourning their absence. Hello?! I turned them in. Me. Not because my dad pissed me off one day, not because I would naturally inherit everything (though both are quite true) but because, despite what Scarhead and the two members of his fan club think, I *do* happen to know the difference between good and evil. And, in spite of evidence to the contrary, I don't actually want all Mudbloods head.  
  
Not that I was ever, er, less than what I am, but I'm not the same as the 11 year old that stepped onto Hogwarts grounds 6 years ago. Some of my more violent tendencies have curbed ever so slightly. Not, of course, that I would want anyone to think I'm going soft.   
  
Which is why I picked a fight with the youngest Weasley in the hall on the way to the dorms.  
  
Well, on some level, the idiot asked for it. She brushed past me! Okay, here's the deal:  
  
1-Nobody, ABSOLUTELY NOBODY, brushes past Draco Malfoy. First years know this. It's like a built in knowledge all children possess. So don't try to throw me some guilt trip crap.   
  
And 2-She didn't even mutter one word of apology.  
  
I sneered (something I have been attempting to perfect from years of observing Snape), and snapped, as she started walking away, "You know, Weasley, I am well aware your family has to struggle to feed the lot of you-" I paused to sweep a gaze up her thin body as if to say, 'Obviously,' then continued, "but one would think they could afford you some manners."  
  
The Slytherins surrounding me laughed appreciatively, while the other three students-7th year Ravenclaws-rolled their eyes, having witnessed variations of this scene many a time.  
  
Mentally I took down their names (Julianne Truman, Robert Lawrence, and Josephine Pilard) for later 'use.'  
  
Anyway, the youngest Weasel-Genie or something-turned to me with narrowed eyes.   
  
"Oh, that's rich, coming from someone with *your* family background," she returned.  
  
Since when did a Weasel have a backbone? And why had no one alerted me? No matter.  
  
"Watch your tongue, Weasel," I warned.  
  
"Why? Afraid someone might actually say out loud what the entire school thinks?" She slid a sideways glance at the other students from my own house. "Everyone with a soul, that is," she added definitely.  
  
…  
  
Hmmm….  
  
*This* was interesting.  
  
"And what," I began, taking a threatening step forward (no, she did not back down), "would *you* say the entire school thinks?"  
  
She then spouted off an entire list of adjectives to describe yours truly. Adjectives that, I shall admit, were impressively used.  
  
Which would be when Professor Snape appeared, his eyes glittering dangerously.  
  
"Mrs. Weasley," he hissed, "you kiss your brothers with those lips." he smirked. "All 26 of them. Ten points from Gryffindor."  
  
He paused, as though expecting her to argue, but she said nothing.  
  
"Now get to your common room." And I swear, his eyes dropped in disappointment when she agreed with nothing more than a "Yes, sir."  
  
As the rest of the students did as told, the Potions professor returned his attention to me. "Congratulations, Mr. Malfoy, on becoming Head Boy."  
  
I almost shrugged, but knew better.   
  
"Thank you, Professor."  
  
He stood there, silently, and I wondered exactly what else he wanted to say.  
  
"Are you enjoying living at your aunt's," he continued after a moment.   
  
Oh, great. More sympathy.   
  
"Yes, sir."   
  
At least I could answer him honestly. My aunt Erika was from my mother's side, and wanted very little to do with me. She had no children of her own and, I expect, wasn't quite sure how to handle them. I was given free reign during the summers I spent with her, as long as I returned before the end of the evening and disappeared while she had gentleman company.   
  
Professor Snape nodded, apparently pleased. "I'm glad. But, Draco, I would like to say, if you would ever like to spend a vacation with me, you're more than welcome."  
  
Hadn't expected this at all.  
  
I must have been staring at him in disbelief, because he elaborated, "I know that in the end, your father and I were pitted against each other, but back before you were born, I considered him a very close friend-my best friend, really, when I was a student here." He stopped, and I couldn't ignore the regret that laced his voice. "I've always considered it a shame that I couldn't do anything to bring him to our side."  
  
"Me too."   
  
Ugh.  
  
Was that out loud? I was beginning to sound like Potter.  
  
He stared down at me sadly. "You did what I could not bring myself to do. I was impressed when I heard."  
  
"I wish it had been more."  
  
"You did what you could."  
  
"It wasn't enough."  
  
"You saved a lot of lives."  
  
"Not theirs." I took a deep breath and met Snape's eyes.   
  
"Don't make me out to be a hero," I muttered. "Potter's a hero. With a hero, everyone comes back."  
  
I cleared my throat, and turned. "I should get back to my common room, Professor. It wouldn't do for the Head Boy to be unaccounted for."  
  
"I understand, Mr. Malfoy. I bid you good evening. And don't forget what I said about vacation."  
  
"I won't, sir."  
  
And I haven't.   
  
Okay, so it's only been about an hour since my talk with Snape, but I'm already thinking it over. It's a tempting offer, one that's been in the back of my mind ever since I turned my family in.   
  
(Family. Ha.)  
  
I've never been to Snape's before, and it could be intriguing. And besides, he's really the only person who could even pretend to understand.   
  
Not that I care, of course, if people understand or not.   
  
Shut up. 


	3. Crazy Malfoy, an Entry by Ginny

Disclaimer: Wow, you guys are so smart. You caught me! I DO own Harry Potter and everything about it. OH PLEASE! I don't own anything at all except for the plot. Stay AWAY FROM THE PLOT! *glares around maniacally*  
  
A/N: To those who reviewed, thanks. To those who did not: : (   
  
A/N 2: I am not crazy about this chapter at all, but it had to be written. Don't worry, chapter four will be a lot more interesting.   
  
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Ginny Weasley  
  
September 10th 10:36 a.m.-Transfigurations  
  
Current Number of arguments with Draco Malfoy today: 7  
  
Current number of arguments with Ron: 2  
  
Current number of successful attempts to avoid said Malfoy: 0  
  
Okay, let's go ahead and get this out of the way *right now.*   
  
I am not afraid of Malfoy.   
  
I'm not.  
  
But since out public display of hatred, everywhere I've gone, there he's been, leering. Leering like a… uh… despicable animal that leers.  
  
Right. Exactly.  
  
It's not even that it can be said that his reasoning is that he wants to fight or punish me for the other day. The aforementioned rows were actually instances in which I screamed at him, having lost all patience (and the arguments with Ron were due, of course, to my getting an insane amount of points taken away from our house in one day-guess how these points were lost). No, that irritating, arrogant, self absorbed slime ball (note to self: learn some new, degrading nouns) just keeps crossing my path, sneering and…leering. Yes.  
  
And it's only 10:30 in the morning. That means that by dinner I'll have had about a total of *28* public screaming matches with that…New nouns-get them!  
  
Oops, McGonagall is frowning at me.  
  
6:32 p.m.-dinner  
  
I'm starting to borrow pages from Hermione's book. I've taken to using mirrors to check around corners for snakes. Of course, mine is 17 and blond while hers was like 1,000 years old and deadly.  
  
And by 'mine' I mean the snake I am referring to. Not that…   
  
Ugh.   
  
I can't even finish the thought. There are few things more disturbing.  
  
Like…   
  
Well…   
  
Ah ha! Like Snape in a dress, for one. Although, that was actually a bit more amusing than disturbing. Okay, so I wasn't in the class, but Ron was, and that are few people that like to see the Potions teacher brought down like he does.  
  
Speaking of the Potions teacher, Colin and I have a bet going to see who can avoiding receiving detention from that man for the longest period of time. He thinks he's got it made since, obviously, his family doesn't exactly have the Weasley temper (since, you know, they're not Weasleys). But I can be very well mannered when I so desire.   
  
Except in the case of a certain Slytherin Snake.   
  
Who, by the way, is on his way over here.  
  
This has trouble written all over it  
  
10:16 p.m.   
  
I wonder if he's going crazy. Malfoy, I mean. He just walked up, casual as if he dined at the Gryffindor table every evening, and fell into the seat on my other side. He grabbed a cookie and popped it into his mouth-no trance of a smirk anywhere on his lips.  
  
I glanced over at my brother who was staring in unconcealed disbelief. Harry, who had dropped his fork to the floor and hadn't noticed, wore a question mark on his face.   
  
Hermione didn't say a word, gave no indication that she saw. And I might have believed her acting, except I could see Ron poking her with the handle of his fork, whispering loudly, "Hermione, Malfoy is sitting at our table. Hermione, don't you see him? I think he may be *hitting* on my *sister.*" (At which point she finally snapped, "I see him, Ron. But I'll be a lot happier if I pretend I don't see that ingrate sitting at the Gryffindor table.")  
  
I glowered at Draco for a full minute before he raised an eyebrow at me.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
YES?!?!?!   
  
Sighing, exasperated, I leapt from my seat and fled the dining room, unable to even fathom the idea of eating dinner with a Slytherin. A Malfoy!  
  
A MALFOY!  
  
No way, no how. Not if he was the last human being in the universe.   
  
No.   
  
Repeat.   
  
No.  
  
So, here I am, sitting in my room, staring out at the night. It's beautiful, the moon is shining so brightly I can see the outline of the trees. It's rather nice.  
  
And I am *not* thinking about Draco at all.  
  
I hate people.  
  
Especially him.  
  
If there was just one person I could hate for the rest of my life, it would so be him.   
  
I mean, really. How hard is it to be nice to people? NOT hard.  
  
But, no. He's got to be all, "I'm a jerk. Fear me. Hate me. Every negative feeling you can have about me, well, have it, because I don't care."  
  
Boys are so stupid.  
  
Nothing but trouble, the lot of them.  
  
Let's take a look, shall we, at the young men I have fancied. The first, of course, being Harry Potter. Not only did he not see me, but I dipped my elbow in butter for him. Then we have Tom Riddle… Who was evil and attempted to kill the aforementioned crush.  
  
And then, finally we have…  
  
Nobody.  
  
I guess I got a little carried away with this whole thing. What was my point?  
  
Oh.   
  
Right.   
  
Boys are idiots that don't know a good thing when they see it.  
  
Well, they are and they don't.  
  
I know what you're thinking and you're wrong. That all this anger is because of some heartbreaking love that I'm carrying around for someone I can't have. That is ridiculous. There is absolutely no one that would fit...  
  
Oh.  
  
OH!  
  
Ha. That's….preposterous.  
  
I am NOT in love with Draco Malfoy.  
  
…  
  
I'm not.  
  
Are you listening to me?  
  
Somehow, I doubt it. You know, not having ears, and all.  
  
I do not, could not, would not EVER love Draco Malfoy. Of that you can be most certain.  
  
…  
  
I mean, the guy is my family's sworn enemy. My dad would run him through with a sword before he'd let me so much as *date* the guy. Ron would have a fit, probably go as far as to refuse to ever speak to me again. My mom wanted me to forgive him, not fall for him! Though none of them have anything to worry about. I'm not in love with Malfoy, I will never BE in love with Malfoy. So life is fine. Good. Wonderful. 


	4. Winning Over Ginny, an Entry by Draco

Disclaimer: I don't own anything in this chapter. Well, except the plot. Which may, of course, have been done before.  
  
A/N: Thanks for the reviews. As always, they are all read and appreciated. And BTW, I am well aware that Mr. Weasley got his tickets as a gift, but in GoF Lucius believes that they were bought. So I figured his son would think that as well.  
  
A/N 2: And for the review that says Draco was out of character… I'm sorry that you feel that way. Perhaps you will find him more to your liking in later chapters. If not, then it's unfortunate, but it is my story.  
  
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Draco Malfoy  
  
September 11th-6:02 a.m.  
  
I believe I am driving the Weasel girl crazy. Slowly but surely. It's rather amusing and has three plus sides.  
  
1-I get to annoy a Weasley, which in and of itself is reason enough.  
  
2-It gets me away from having to subject myself to A Fate Worse Than Death. (Okay, so hanging out with Crabbe and Goyle, though boring, isn't *that* bad, but how fun is it to say, "A Fate Worse Than Death?" Insanely fun. I think I'll say it again: A Fate Worse Than Death. (And yes, each word must be capitalized, lest we lose the intimidation of that phrase.))  
  
3-It could possibly win me 50 galleons.   
  
The whole thing stemmed off a conversation with Pansy. Irritating, feeble minded Pansy.   
  
I mentioned the argument with the Weasel and added (with a dashing smile I save for special occasions), "It's *so* obvious that the girl is in love with me."  
  
Now, I am a big enough man to admit when I've made a mistake (to a journal, anyway) and I will say this. It was perhaps *not* the best comment. I mean, all the girls around me started laughing and were soon in hysterics. I glared at each of them in turn.  
  
"What?"  
  
Which set them off even more.   
  
Now I was getting irritated, a fact that Pansy seemed to notice, because she answered, "Draco, dear, it's nothing against you, it's just…" She grinned. "You are aware that that's Ron Weasley's sister you're talking about?"  
  
I assured her that I was.  
  
She chuckled again. "Honey, let's be realistic. There is simply no way a Weasley could even be attracted to you. It's ridiculous."  
  
"I got you, didn't I?"  
  
She snorted in the most unladylike fashion. "Weasley and I aren't even on the same planet," she informed me. I chose not to gag aloud. "It takes one such as myself to appreciate your winning charms."  
  
"Well, I'd bet 50 galleons in another direction."  
  
Okay, so writing that down, it does look a little like an actual wager. But I did not mean it that way. In fact, idiot sounding as it may, it didn't even cross my mind that Pansy may take it seriously.   
  
When her eyes lit up, I knew I'd taken this thing too far.   
  
"You would, would you?" she questioned, the amusement oozing from her voice.  
  
With more confidence than I possessed, I answered, "Fifty galleons on my charm, good looks and the fact that I can have any girl I want? Most certainly."  
  
A couple of the other girls started to grin and I felt a shutter of nerves.   
  
And then Pansy smiled broadly and a slow dawning began to come over me.  
  
Uh oh.   
  
"Fantastic. By-" she paused to turn to Brittany…something… and asked, "What's a good date?"  
  
I could feel the color draining from my cheeks as the girl answered, "What's more appropriate than Valentine's Day?"  
  
My girlfriend, as she called herself anyway, nodded. "That gives him five months." She returned her attention to me. "You have until February 14th to get Ginny Weasley to fall in love with you. She has to say those three magical words in the presence of at least three Slytherin and it has to look sincere, or else it doesn't count."  
  
Have I mentioned that I hate her as well? I do. After all, now I had but two options. Agree to this madness or refuse and let the entire house of Slytherin know that I didn't believe I could capture the heart of Weasley.   
  
The choice was clear.  
  
"I accept that challenge," I said, smiling as widely as I could without having to forfeit believability.   
  
"Wonderful," she said brightly. "Shall we shake on it?"  
  
"Let's."  
  
So we did. The deal was sealed.   
  
With that, I jumped to my feet and crossed the room to the Gryffindor table. I could hear a couple of whispers as I dropped into a seat beside the Weasley girl.   
  
I said nothing (careful to keep my face devoid of all hints of sarcasm) and reached for cookie. I was aware of the girl's glare, but ignored it.  
  
'Stare some sort of conversation,' my mind yelled irritably.  
  
What did Weasels talk about? I racked my brain. Where to get the best second hand robes?   
  
Ha! Ha! As if I could even *pretend* that related to me.  
  
How to conjure up a proper hair dye potion in case one of their children isn't a red head?   
  
What were the odds of *that* happening?  
  
How many years it would take Author Weasley to pay back his Quidditch World Cup tickets?   
  
Somehow I doubted it.  
  
I had no idea what to say to this girl.  
  
She was still frowning at me.  
  
"Yes," I finally asked.   
  
She gave me what can only be described as a moan of irritation (Why, I am still at a loss for. I had done nothing to her.) and left the table.  
  
From across the room Pansy smirked and sent me a sarcastic wave.  
  
Well, great. Just great.  
  
Of course, that was yesterday. And once again today, I plan to sit with our Ms. Weasley. Maybe I'll make this an every day occurrence. I wonder if it's against the rules to sit with another house. I bet so. But then, I bet they'll give me a break since I'm clearly a distressed young man, what with my parent's in prison and all. *profuse rolling of eyes*  
  
I must decide on something to talk to her about. I can't just keep sitting there silently, running through possible topics of interest in my mind. Even I am aware of just how idiotic I look. Certainly it wouldn't be easy of… *gulp* Ginny to fall in love with someone who can't carry on a conversation with her.   
  
There has *got* to be something that would interest the both of us. That's what I keep telling myself, anyway.  
  
But it basically comes down to this: She and I have absolutely nothing in common and it will be a quite the surprise if she can ever regard me something other than disgust.  
  
Why on earth did I have to open my mouth? Why couldn't I just let them think what they wanted? It's not like I care what any of them think, anyway. But no. Draco Malfoy's got to have his pride.   
  
Maybe I should just ask her things as polite conversation. Like, how she is, and comment on the weather. Far from my usual standards, but at this point I'll take what I can get. 


	5. I Hate Draco Malfoy, an Entry by Ginny

Disclaimer: I'm 19 years old for goodness sakes! Do you really think I could write the way JKR does? Fine. I don't own anything in this story that you recognize.  
  
A/N: Thanks for the kind reviews. By the way, anyone ever heard the song, "One of These Days" by Tim McGraw? I always associate Malfoy with the character in the song.  
  
A/N 2: Okay, now when you read about Malfoy's escapade in this chapter, don't immediately assume that it's out of character. Just wait until I get out my next chapter, by him, before you get angry.  
  
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Ginny Weasley  
  
September 29th 11:30 p.m.  
  
Malfoy's harassment is getting to be a constant thing. At first it wasn't terrible. Like, for the first couple of days he would just sit at the Gryffindor table, never saying a word. Just sat there, eating silently, smirking occasionally when the situation called for it.   
  
Now…  
  
Now he's attempting at conversation.  
  
Don't get me wrong. The look in Ron's eyes when Malfoy asked me how I was… Well, priceless doesn't quite cut it. But I'm convinced that, if so moved, my brother could hex the fair haired Slytherin into next Thursday.  
  
And by "fair haired" I mean it in the most unflattering way. Because, really, his hair is the *most* unattractive part of him. It's not blond, or white. I heard a Ravenclaw describe it once as silver.  
  
Which would be accurate, except it gives the impression of handsomeness or something.   
  
Which it certainly is *not.*  
  
No.  
  
And while we're on the subject of unattractive parts of Malfoy, what's wrong with his eyes? Not blue, I guess a sort of gray.  
  
Well they're ugly and I hate them.  
  
I'm unbelievably grateful that I am not the poor wretch that has to stare at them all day long.  
  
Unbelievably.  
  
…  
  
I am.  
  
Ugh. Can you image being Malfoy's…girlfriend? Probably not, considering you can't imagine anything, being inanimate and all.  
  
Well, since you can't, I won't.  
  
Although, I mean, I suppose it wouldn't be *horrible.* After all, he *can* dance. Inexplicable, but there it is. And he's surprisingly smart. He'd have to be, since he's Head Boy.   
  
And I guess his confidence isn't totally hideous. You know, if you like that whole, 'I'm so intelligent and attractive that I an say whatever I want since it will be right' vibe.  
  
I however, do not like that vibe, and would rather be tortured by the dementors for the remainder of my existence than *ever* date Malfoy.  
  
I would too.  
  
Yes huh!  
  
Stop that.  
  
Okay, I am either exhausted or crazy. In any case, I am going to bed.  
  
11:35 p.m.  
  
Okay, perhaps I wouldn't rather that, but you get what I mean.  
  
Right, sleep.  
  
September 30th 11:23 a.m.  
  
I am never leaving my room again. I bet, if I ask her nicely, Hermione will bring me my meals. After all, everyone saw that humiliating display. Certainly she'll understand my need for solace.  
  
…  
  
Apparently not, considering she's banging on the door.  
  
"Come on, Gin," she's saying.  
  
Ha!  
  
Yeah right. I am not answering.  
  
"It wasn't that bad."  
  
Harry's here too? Oh, please someone kill me.  
  
I don't have to wonder where Ron is. He's probably chasing that… freak (have not had a chance to look up new nouns) around the school.  
  
"Gin, I *can* just come in."  
  
I'm glaring at the door, in case you're wondering. Stupid Hermione and her rights as Head Girl.  
  
"Leave me alone," I snap.  
  
The door remains closed.  
  
"Ginny, you can't just skip classes because you're embarrassed."  
  
Oh?  
  
I can hear Harry sigh.  
  
"Nobody was laughing at you."  
  
I'm not saying a word…  
  
"I promise," he adds. "The only people who said anything at all were laughing at *him.*"  
  
Well, good. They should, and I hope that they do. FOR EVER!  
  
Footsteps, and then…  
  
"She in there?"  
  
Oh, joy. Oh, bliss. The third member of the Dream Team.  
  
"Yes," Hermione's answering, "but she won't come out."  
  
I think my brother is going to attempt to break the door down.  
  
No, wait. Harry is suggesting they all just let me alone. I love that guy.  
  
"Did you catch him," asks Hermione.  
  
Ron says no, and as he begins to explain what happened, they all walk away.  
  
I guess you want to know why I'm seriously considering transfiguring an oven out of my dresser and living in my room. Okay then. Picture this:  
  
It's breakfast time, and I go down as always. Malfoy was late, something that, although unexpected, was hardly noteworthy. Colin was describing how he'd narrowly escaped detention from Snape the day before (complete with expressive arm movements) when the doors to the dining area flew open.  
  
And when I saw who was standing there and what he was holding, I thought I was going to be physically ill.  
  
It was Draco Malfoy (who else did you think it'd be?), his arms full of red roses.  
  
"Oh no," I whispered, my words carrying though the room. Everyone sat quietly, watching. "Please, don't let them be for me."   
  
Which was ridiculous. After all, there are *dozens* of Slytherin girls, all of whom would give their right eye for a rose from the guy. Just because he'd been sitting with me lately doesn't mean…  
  
My thoughts halted as he passed his houses table and stopped in front of mine.  
  
In front of me.  
  
Oh, this was so bad.  
  
And to top it off, he dropped to his knees.  
  
"When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,"  
  
Shut up, shut up.  
  
"For all the day they view things unrespected;"  
  
Shut up, shut up.  
  
"But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,"  
  
Shut up, shut up.  
  
"And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed,"  
  
Shut up, shut up.  
  
"Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,"  
  
Shut up, shut up.  
  
"How would thy shadow's form happy show"  
  
Shut up, please, for the love of Merlin, shut up.  
  
"To the clear day with thy much clearer light,"  
  
Oh, shut up.  
  
"When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!"  
  
Anyone know how to make the floor open up and swallow me?  
  
"How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made"  
  
…  
  
"By looking on thee in the living day,"  
  
Is it actually possible to die of embarrassment?  
  
"When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade"  
  
… Who would have guessed that a Malfoy knows Shakespeare? Sonnet 43, if I don't miss my guess.  
  
"Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!"  
  
Shut up.  
  
"All days are nights to see till I see thee,"  
  
SHUT UP YOU FREAKING FERRET!!!!!  
  
"And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me."  
  
I sat there silently, staring down in disgust and suspicion. And get this: He was looking rather proud of himself, as if he'd just accomplished something he'd otherwise deemed impossible.  
  
An envious sigh from a fellow Gryffindor caused me to return to reality.  
  
"Get up," I hissed through clenched teeth.  
  
Incredibly, he shook his head, smiling. Then he went, "I'd rather kneel here at the feet of my sweet Virginia."  
  
HIS SWEET VIRGINIA?!   
  
I'd show him sweet. I snatched the roses from his hands and whacked him right across his stupid, smug face. Then I jumped from my seat and fled the room, unable to look back.  
  
Don't even *think* about feeling sorry for him, by the way, because there is simply no way he could have been sincere. Shakespeare? Come on.  
  
I hate him. I really truly do.  
  
…  
  
And I don't find that spectacle romantic in the least. 


	6. The Lie That Started It All, an Entry by...

Disclaimer: Neat! You think I own these characters. How cool is that? Unfortunately I have to say that I don't. But please don't cry. I know it's quite a shock, but I'm sure you'll be able to cope.  
  
A/N: Again, thanks for the reviews. I love them all! And this one is a longer one! Should be right at seven pages. In the next chapter we'll see what made Ginny agree to Draco's plea.  
  
A/N 2: I feel compelled to add this little comment. There is a cuss word in here towards the end of the chapter. I in no way condone cussing-I, myself, never do. (I'm a big Christian, and I guess that plays a big part.) But I think that the language corresponds to what we know about Draco so I went ahead and added it. I hope it's not offensive.  
  
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Draco Malfoy  
  
September 30th 12:26 p.m.  
  
Okay, so that didn't go exactly as planned. I still don't understand why not, though. My father has always told me, "Women are incomprehensible, Draco, but if I've learned one thing about them it's this: Roses and Shakespeare cure anything."  
  
Hmm….  
  
But then, he did end up marrying the Queen of the Underworld, so maybe his remedy only works on a certain type of girl. And Merlin knows Narcissa Malfoy and Virginia Weasley do not have a lot in common.  
  
Too bad. I spent a lot of time choosing an appropriate sonnet.  
  
…  
  
You know, you'd think she'd be even the slightest bit appreciative. Especially considering all the *very* witty jokes I have been subjected to.  
  
"Hey, Malfoy, read any good poetry lately?"  
  
"I had no idea Draco Malfoy was so in touch with his emotions."  
  
"How touching. Malfoy's chasing a Weasley!"   
  
Thank Merlin someone clued the Slytherins in about this or I would have just handed over the money.  
  
And as if that's not enough, I had to spend the morning dodging Weasley's older brother.   
  
This day is not off to a very good start.  
  
7:10 p.m.  
  
I think the girl may have gone into hiding. She hasn't been present at any of the meals since breakfast and I heard that Creevey kid-the one *with the camera* tell the other Creevey that Virginia (have thought about the name Ginny and have decided that there is simply no way any girl of mine -especially one I have no desire to actually be around- is going be called such a ridiculous name. Let's be realistic, shall we?) hasn't been to any of her classes.  
  
I'm starting to think it may be beneficial to go see her. After all, there's simply no way she's going to declare her undying love to me in public if I can't convince her that I care about her too.  
  
8:36 p.m.  
  
Not *too* terrible, if I do say so myself.  
  
I crossed through the Gryffindor Common Room, inwardly relieved that I didn't see Virginia's older brother, Scarhead, or Mudblood. The Gryffindors who *were* present raised their eyebrows but said nothing.   
  
I impatiently approached a first year and snapped, "Virginia Weasley's room?"  
  
Trembling (as if anyone could blame him), he gestured to a set of stairs and mumbled, "Second flight of stairs, there's only one door."  
  
I didn't bother to knock. Muttering the charm that opened all the student's doors, I stepped inside.   
  
Another sixth year sat beside the girl I had been seeking and, with a simple glare provided by yours truly, she scampered away.   
  
I turned my attention to Virginia, then promptly had to duck as a large Herbology book was flung towards-or, rather, at-me. She stood but three meters away, looking absolutely furious.  
  
Though I hadn't a clue as to why. She was the one throwing inanimate objects, not me.   
  
She picked up a vase threateningly.  
  
"Wait, wait, wait," I said quickly as it entered my brain that it would take more than my presences to solve this. "Why don't we just sit down and discuss-"  
  
I was cut off as she approached. "Discuss," she gaped, her face now merely centimeters from my own (And let me tell you, this was not at all a pleasant sensation. Not in the tiniest bit.). "What's to discuss? You humiliated me in front of the entire school! None of my teachers will ever take me seriously again." Her voice rose with her temper. "What on earth were you *THINKING*?! Were you under the impression that it was funny?"  
  
She halted to wait for my answer.  
  
"No?" I ventured.   
  
She sighed, and suddenly her face fell. It looked as if she had lost all interest in conversation and simply wanted to sleep. (And to my delight, she returned to vase to it's original spot.  
  
"Just get out, Malfoy," she whispered, turning away.  
  
I still don't understand the abrupt mood change. But even I know better than to leave someone with *that* tone. So I took it upon myself to lower (Malfoys neither 'drop' nor 'fall' into anything. Ever) into a nearby chair.  
  
"So it appears my gesture was not received in the manner in which it was intended. Pity."  
  
"Was that an apology," she questioned.  
  
Not even a little bit.  
  
"No," I replied. "Just an acknowledgement of an unfortunate truth."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "And in what 'manner' was it intended?"  
  
"One of friendship of course."  
  
She didn't believe me, but, really, I hadn't exactly expected her to.  
  
"Sod off."  
  
"Eloquently worded," I returned.   
  
"Sorry if it wasn't Shakespeare, but I do have better things to do than to sit around, memorizing sonnets."  
  
She was mocking me!   
  
Me!   
  
Draco Malfoy.  
  
I hate her.   
  
"Listen, Malfoy-"  
  
"Draco," I interjected.   
  
She blinked, clearly unnerved. Then, "No."  
  
"No what?"  
  
"I'm not calling you that."  
  
"It's my name."  
  
"So is Malfoy."  
  
"Yes, but that indicates animosity."  
  
"How convenient, because I hate you."  
  
Finally! Something in common.  
  
"Perhaps we should do something to remedy that."  
  
I stepped closer, so that our lips were but a breath apart. Inwardly, I was preparing for the kiss. I didn't care much for quality. The sooner we started kissing, the sooner she realized that I truly am all that I know myself to be, the sooner she said those three little words, the sooner I got my money.   
  
Then, to my surprise and utter disgust, she burst into a fit of laughter.   
  
I frowned as she grasped her sides in hysterics.  
  
"What is so funny?"  
  
"You," she managed to gasp, doubled over. "You sound like someone from a bad romance novel."  
  
I stiffened. Draco Malfoy? Bad romance novel? Surely there was no comparison between the two. I sighed inwardly. Clearly, as hard as I was trying to make this quick and relatively painless, I would have to take drastic measures. AKA: Go slowly.   
  
And probably befriend her first.  
  
*shutter*  
  
"Fine," I snapped, in what I thought-and still think-was a fair impression of impatience. "You want to know the truth?"  
  
Still recovering, she grinned.   
  
"Please."  
  
Quick, Malfoy, think. My mind reeled at the possible lies that sprang up. There were so many to choose from. I had long since mastered how to tell a good one; so I've no idea why I blurted, "I need your help with Potions."  
  
She stared. "You are aware that you're Head Boy, right? Somehow I doubt you are having such trouble with a class that you would search out a 6th year."   
  
Damn her. She had a point. A couple, actually.  
  
"It's true, I've been acing potions," I conceded, slowing seeing a plan form in my mind, "but there's a reason for that. Snape's been giving me the grades because he knew what my dad would do if I brought home less than the top scores."   
  
Ahh… The look on her face betrayed her belief in my words. Not hard to understand why. Anything negative about Professor Snape and all the Gryffindors leap to trust it.  
  
"Two years later he pulls the run out from under you?"  
  
"It's actually been closer to a year and a half. And besides, I was recuperating."  
  
"Being lazy, you mean."  
  
"However you choose to word it is fine by me. In any case, the fact is, I need you Virginia. I heard Snape tell McGonagall that you're his top student." That part was true, at least.  
  
She winced at the mention of her name. "Could you not find a Slytherin in your own year to help?"  
  
"I would rather not damage my reputation, if I can avoid it. That's why all 7th years are out of the question, along with all Slytherins." All things considered, especially considering that I came up with this on the spot, it was a pretty convincing lie. "I would have to be able to trust you to be able to handle this with the utmost discretion."  
  
She was still uncertain.  
  
"I'll pay you," I added.  
  
"No." She raised her eyes to meet mine. "Consider it a favor."  
  
A Malfoy in debt to a Weasley? Wonderful. But if that was what it would take to get the show on the road, then so be it.  
  
"Alright, then. Care to meet at the Astronomy Tower at, say, 8 tomorrow night? Then, perhaps, every other day following?"  
  
She blushed deeply, but managed to sound controlled as she answered, "Fine by me. And by the way…"  
  
I raised an eyebrow.  
  
"It's Ginny. Not Virginia, not Weasel, not Weasley. Ginny."  
  
"Virginia."  
  
"Ginny."  
  
"Virginia."  
  
"Ginny, or I tell the entire house of Gryffindor about your predicament." She was enjoying this, the little halfwit.  
  
"Fine," I finally agreed. "But I'm not going to like it."  
  
"I didn't ask you to."  
  
So that's that. I now have a legitimate excuse to see Wea -sigh- Ginny every other evening at the Astronomy Tower.  
  
Of course, it means I'll have to feign ignorance, something I've never excelled at, but it shouldn't take too many of these idiotic meetings to make her realize her undying love for me. I am, as I have said, quite confident in my ability to win over the opposite sex. And I am expected to believe that this girl, Ginny, is going to be any more difficult than any of the others?  
  
Okay, so she didn't respond to the sonnet and flowers as I'd expected. Too bad, but hardly hazardous. I shall simply tuck this information away and attempt another avenue when an appropriate time presents itself.  
  
I'm going to guess that by Halloween, she'll be putty in my hands. 


	7. Our First Session, an Entry by Ginny

Disclaimer: Yep, don't own anything. But if this is J.K.R and you would like to hand over the characters, I would be more than happy to accept them.  
  
A/N: Okay, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that I have another chapter out. YES!! The bad news is that I leave tomorrow morning for France and won't be back for 10 more days. Well, I guess that's more bad news for ya'll than it is for me. *wink*  
  
A/N: I'm sorry, but this chapter isn't quite as humorous as some of the others. But I didn't want to go more than 10 days without an update. I felt sorry for you guys. *grin*  
  
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Ginny Weasley  
  
October 1st 11:31 p.m.  
  
I have to leave for Astronomy soon, so I'd better make this quick.  
  
Today's session with Malfoy was… Interesting to say the very least. He was rather amusing to watch, and let me tell you. That boys needs more help in Potions than I ever would have guessed.   
  
We started with his homework - to list all the ingredients of the Wolfbane Potion without the help of his book (which had been charmed to prevent cheating). I asked him if he'd taken notes during class and he raised an eyebrow at me, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.  
  
"Why on earth would I need to help of notes," he drawled, rolling his eyes for effect.  
  
I stared at him blankly. "Well, I would guess that if I was having trouble in a class, I would take all the information available."  
  
He paled at this, ever so slightly, and I wondered if I had embarrassed him. Which is, of course, ridiculous. I mean, a Weasley embarrassing a Malfoy.   
  
Sure.   
  
And Snape's having a passionate love affair with my Astronomy teacher.   
  
Hee hee hee.   
  
Anyway, he was quick to scramble his dignity together and snapped, "So, what's the answer?"  
  
I swallowed back the comments rising in my throat and stated the ingredients. He started to write them down, then paused.   
  
"What were they again?" he asked.   
  
I will not choke the Malfoy, I thought, I will not choke the Malfoy.  
  
I repeated them.   
  
He licked his lips and then, "What?"  
  
Breathe in, out, in, out.  
  
"Were you not listening," I asked, careful to keep my temper in check. My mom would be proud of how kind I was being, I reminded myself.   
  
"I was too busy staring into your eyes."  
  
I wanted to laugh. I really, truly did. But somehow, my vocal cords failed me and all I could do was cough.   
  
"Are you alright?" he asked, seemingly amused.   
  
Glaring, I responded, "If we are going to work together then you're going to have to keep your sarcasum to yourself."  
  
"Maybe I was being sincere."  
  
"Maybe the world is flat."  
  
"How long did it take you to think of that one?"  
  
I grinned, in spite of myself. "Less than you'd think."  
  
I considered pressing the issue, but that would make it seem like I cared whether he was being sincere or not, which was insane.   
  
Because I didn't. And don't.  
  
And then we went to work on a paper he has due next week on the positive and negitive effects of various types of potions.   
  
At 10 p.m. he stood. "I think we can end this session here," he informed me.   
  
I breathed a long sigh of relief. "Then I'll see you tomorrow, sometime, I expect."  
  
I moved to leave when I felt his warm hand rest on my shoulder. I turned and waited.  
  
"Are you in love with Potter?"  
  
I blinked. Twice. I could have lied, or snapped that it wasn't any of his business anyway, but the words wouldn't come.   
  
"No," I finally answered truthfully.  
  
He smirked. "Realize that the heartthrob of the Gryffindor house is more interested in Quidditch than in you?"  
  
"No, that I was more interested in Snape than in him."  
  
Ha! I'd stunned him.  
  
"Who'd have guessed? A Weasel with taste."  
  
I thought of my brother, and his pining for Hermione, and found myself turning around and stomping away, inwardly promising myself that that was the last time I was ever going to help that rather sorry excuse for a wizard.  
  
"Ginny," I heard him call. I ignored it and continued walking.  
  
"Ginny, wait!"  
  
Suddenly I felt warm hands resting on my shoulders.  
  
"What did I say?"  
  
I spun, my eyes blazing.   
  
"What did you say?! Listen here, you pompus, arrogant, self centered prat! You can't just get away with insulting my family and expect me to sit down and take it! I'm helping you, remember? Or, rather, I was. Not anymore."  
  
He looked uncomfortable at my outburst. "There's no need to overreact. It wasn't really an insult at your brother, anyway. It was intended to be a shot at Mudblood."  
  
I felt shivers travel down my back at the vicious name. "Do you have some sort of complex that makes it impossible for you to say anything nice about anyone?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
He sighed when I placed my hands on my hips. "I'm sorry, okay? I won't say Mudblood anymore."  
  
"Or Scarhead?"  
  
Another deep, aggravated sigh. "Fine. Now, you agree to continue to help me?"  
  
"I agree," I said. "As long as you keep up the bargain, of course."  
  
"Of course."  
  
So that was my first evening with Draco.  
  
Uh…  
  
By evening, I mean evening spent with him.  
  
Wait. That didn't quite come out right.  
  
I mean, that was the first evening STUDYING we had.   
  
Yes.  
  
Right.   
  
Okay, got to run. Can't be tardy. With my luck, I'll get detention, along with Draco and my evening count with him will up.  
  
And by evening, I still mean…   
  
Okay, sorry.  
  
Night. 


	8. Most Curious, an Entry by Draco

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. NEVER will I own anything. Jeepers!  
  
A/N: Well, I just got back from France, and I must thank every one of my reviewers. I had 64 reviews. Thanks so much!  
  
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Draco Malfoy  
  
October 27th 9:36 a.m.  
  
Things are not progressing in the least bit the way I would have preferred.   
  
First of all, it is nearly Halloween and I still haven't so much as made her smile. I've been too busy spending all of our study sessions focusing on not slipping that I know more than I claim.   
  
Second, I seem to have lost the entirety of my dignity. By our first study section I had agreed not to use the words "Mudblood" or "Scarhead" and lost all privileges of insulting her family.   
  
And third, she's made me swear never to approach her ever again outside of the studying, so naturally people think I made my move on Ginny Weasley and she turned me down.  
  
Well, not the Slytherins, of course.  
  
Except for Snape.  
  
He and I had a run in yesterday which was more than a little embarrassing.  
  
I could hear him approaching me, of course, so I quickened my pace, knowing what this would be about. But he was larger and predictably faster and caught up easily.  
  
"Draco," he addressed me, falling into a step to my left.  
  
"Yes, sir," I returned. I was still far from Transfigurations without a way to avoid this conversation.  
  
Against my better judgment, I slid my eyes to his face and was appalled to see he was fighting back outright laughter.  
  
At me!  
  
Me!!!!  
  
He cleared his throat. "I've heard, Draco, around your little spectacle a few weeks ago, and wanted to give you a little advice."  
  
Advice?  
  
From Professor Snape?  
  
On women?  
  
Someone, please kill me.  
  
"Yes, sir." I swallowed back all hints of the revulsion that were dying to be showed.  
  
"Perhaps it would be better if you would let her come to you," he informed me. "After all, you wouldn't want your reputation to suffer a blow just because you can't charm a Weasley." And then he made a turn and was gone.  
  
Ha! I think I'll say that again. Ha! He too believes that I can't get her. Well, I'm going to show them all. I can, and will. After all, she's never been showed attention like that of Draco Malfoy. I'm certain to do her a world of good.  
  
I guess I should get going. Classes in a few minutes.  
  
11:46 p.m.  
  
Well…  
  
That was odd.  
  
I have just returned from my most interesting study session yet, with the most bizarre occurrence having just transpired.  
  
We were studying (with me, trying to ignore the fact that her face seemed to twist in anger every time I said her name), sitting on the cold stone floor.  
  
"And then you add the holly," she finished, and shut the book flat.   
  
I finished my scribbling and replaced my quill.   
  
"Thanks," I said, forcing a grateful smile. I'd been trying to use manners around her and though they seemed to have no effect, you could never be too sure about these things.  
  
She blinked, and for just an instant, her eyes locked with mine, and I was incredibly taken in with how unrepulsive they were.  
  
That's a word!  
  
It is too!  
  
*Glare.*  
  
ANYWAY...  
  
Anyway, a piece of hair fell into her eyes, blocking them from my line of vision and, doing what any warm blooded young man would do in my situation (never mind that I'm not real sure what my situation IS) I reached out with my right hand and brushed it behind her ear.  
  
And then just… forgot my hand was there.  
  
I mean, I guess that's the only explanation since, for whatever reason, I just left my hand resting against her cheek caressing it.   
  
It was inexplicable. After all, I saw clearly what I was doing. I knew that it was a bad idea, and if I had any intelligence in me, I would yank my hand back and leave it at my side for the rest of my life.  
  
And yet, somehow, it remained there.  
  
Ginny herself was reacting in an unpredictable manner as well.  
  
Instead of jumping to her feet and yelling at me never to touch her again, she shivered at my touch and her eyes slid shut. She was visibly trembling, and yet slid closer, as though to draw nearer to my touch.  
  
I should have been in control. It was one of the few things my father taught me that I didn't hate. And for whatever reason, I felt myself being pulled by some outside force, my lips somehow aching to rest against hers.  
  
Another movement and her taste would be on my lips. I watched her carefully for some sign of disagreement, but in that instant, we were totally in sync.  
  
I still don't know why I hesitated. After all, this is what I was fighting for, right? The romantic moments with Weasley would pave the way to a relationship and, later the 'L' word. But the point is that I did, and her eyes positively FLEW open.  
  
Then she jumped to her feet.  
  
"I'll, uh, talk to you later, Draco?" she asked, all the while, gathering her books and preparing to depart.  
  
Still astounded by my lack of control, I simply nodded and waved her away.  
  
She didn't even notice my rudeness, but disappeared around the corner.  
  
And get this.  
  
I was disappointed.  
  
See, this is what bothers me.  
  
Not the fact that I almost kissed Weasley. Not the fact that she looked like she might have enjoyed it (after all, that was BOUND to happen), but the fact that I couldn't stop myself from acting like an idiot, and that I actually… wanted to kiss her.  
  
I hate Weasley.  
  
I DO!  
  
So why would I want to touch her in any shape or form? I should be terrified that she's going to dirty my robes.  
  
This whole thing is curious.  
  
Most curious. 


	9. Lying, or Lack Thereof, an Entry by Ginn...

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. I doubt I'll ever own anything.   
  
A/N: Updates will be a little slower, as I now have a BETA that will be proofreading everything. Also, I have finished Order of the Phoenix, so I'm sure some spoilers will creep in. You have been forewarned.   
  
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Ginny Weasley  
  
October 28th 9:48 a.m.  
  
I hate Draco Malfoy.  
  
I do.  
  
And yet I was up until late last night, tossing and turning, thinking about that silver haired Slytherin.   
  
He… almost kissed me yesterday.  
  
I am appalled. The idea of me and Malfoy… well, it's revolting.  
  
We're polar opposites. Everyone knows that. I mean, there's a reason he's in Slytherin, right? And I'm sure that if we trace the history of our houses, we will find that our founders absolutely despised each other and probably attempted to murder each other on more than one occasion.  
  
But...  
  
I can't stop thinking about him. About the almost-kiss. And a feeling that is remarkably similar to regret keeps washing over me. I think I am actually angry with myself for leaving before it actually took place.   
  
However, if I *hadn't* taken off when I did, and the kiss had actually happened, well, what then? Probably he would have insulted me, making me hate him even more, and of course I wouldn't be able to help him with Potions. And then he would fail, and I ask you, where would he be, then?  
  
Really, I did us both a favor.   
  
So why can't I stop thinking about it?  
  
I've already discussed this with you. The idea of me dating Draco Malfoy is preposterous. We'd probably kill each other before the end of the day. So what's so freaking attractive about him that I can't let it go? I mean, sure, he's fairly good looking. And sometimes, when he smiles, he doesn't look totally evil. And, okay, so his humor is not totally horrible.   
  
But other than that, why would I want to spend my extra time with that sorry excuse for a wizard?  
  
Ha, can't come up with a reason, either? Thought not.  
  
I think it's best if I don't think about him right now.   
  
So, anyway.   
  
The weather is nice today. Sun is shining bright over the trees. Clear blue sky.   
  
What kind of girlfriend would Draco want, anyway? He'd probably someone that would just abide to his every wish. Flutter her eyelashes frequently to give the impression of desire. Swoon every time he tells that stupid story of when he got hurt during Care of Magical Creatures.   
  
Probably she'd have to go through an exhaustive exam during which she'd have to say things like, "Down with Harry Potter" and "Death Eaters are the coolest" and "Dumbledore is a horrible headmaster."  
  
No, I definitely don't want to be subjected to such torture.   
  
And even if the idea had tempted me ever before, it all comes down to the fact that no matter what he did for good, he's still evil. Probably, he just aided in the destruction of Lord Voldermort to make way for himself. Oh yeah, I can see it. Draco the Dark Lord.  
  
Okay, so maybe that was a bit below the belt. I don't mean it, really. But can you honestly see a Weasley kissing or *dating* a Malfoy? I shudder to think of the repercussions that would swiftly follow.  
  
But we've already been through this.  
  
Did I mention his dad tried to kill me?  
  
Oh, right, I did.   
  
11:26 a.m.  
  
Well… didn't see that coming.  
  
It was rather disconcerting. There was a whole crowd of Gryffindors standing in a circle around Ron and Hermione. I apparently walked into the Common Room at *exactly* the wrong time, as Ron's ears were flushed with anger and Hermione was narrowing her eyes suspiciously.  
  
"What is *this* supposed to mean," she snapped, waving a piece of letter back and forth in my brother's face. Automatically I felt sorry for him. I didn't know what he'd done but it must have been pretty bad.   
  
"What do you *think* it means?" he countered, and even I could tell him that it would be best for him to give the girl straight answers.   
  
She blushed (clearly I had no idea why, as I'd missed the big part) and her tone softened. "This isn't some kind of joke?"  
  
Surprised by this turn of events, I glanced around me to see if any others were wearing expressions of confusion. None were.  
  
Ron took a step closer to Hermione and reached gently for her hand. "I wouldn't, I couldn't joke about this to you."  
  
I hated myself for missing the beginning. I surveyed the room for Harry, and found him quickly. I made a mental note to question him after this was over, and then returned my attention to the sight unfolding before my eyes.  
  
A look of pleasure passed across her face. She took a deep breath and then, shocking me even further, threw her arms around my brother, positively trembling.   
  
"I love you too," she breathed, and I swear I saw Seamus and Neville hand Dean some money, but chose to ignore it.  
  
I, for one, let out a shout, but it couldn't be heard over the thunderous applause which, for the record, grew louder when they kissed gently.   
  
Harry wandered over as the crowd began to dissipate.   
  
"Didn't see that coming did you, Gin?" he teased.  
  
I smiled broadly. "Well, I did, but I laid my bets for March."  
  
Which would be when Dean approached me, hand outstretched. I forked over the agreed amount and he left again.   
  
Harry chuckled. "They had me down for October of last year," he admitted sheepishly. "So, of course, I've already paid my dues."  
  
I studied my brother and his (dare I say it?) girlfriend who were sitting on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder. "Wonder how long it'll be before they fight again."  
  
"Not long if they decide to speak to each other."  
  
We laughed together, and it occurred me just how lucky I was. Not too long ago I had been dipping important body parts into butter for this guy, and now I could relax with him. It was nice to have Harry as a friend.  
  
I don't know if he was reading my mind or what, but he turned to me with a goofy smile on his face.  
  
"So, who do you like?"  
  
I wasn't prepared for that.  
  
"Um…huh?" Oh yes. I am very articulate when I choose to be.  
  
His grin widened. "Come on, Gin, I know there *is* someone," he goaded. "I've seen you head off to the Astronomy Tower every other day for a while now."  
  
I know I paled. I must have, as cold and terrified as I felt. "Have you seen me with anyone?" I answered. My voice was shaking.  
  
He shrugged. "No one. I only followed you once and there wasn't anyone around."  
  
He had to have been talking about two Fridays ago. Malfoy was so late I was tempted to just leave.   
  
"I haven't been seeing anyone." Why did it feel like such a lie? "I've just been going up there to study."  
  
I could hex anyone into next week without blinking, but when it came to telling a small fib guilt clenched my heart? Ridiculous. But, of course, I cared a lot for Harry, and wouldn't want to be dishonest.  
  
"You can tell me if you are," he encouraged. The eager look on his face made me laugh.   
  
"I'm not, I promise." I paused and examined the eyes I had once found so alluring. "What about you, Potter? Any romantic interests on the horizon?"  
  
He shook his head. "No, but I appreciate the reminder."  
  
I winked at him. "Always here to help."  
  
I started to return to my room, but turned back instantly.   
  
"Hey, Harry?"  
  
He raised an eyebrow in questioning.  
  
"What was that thing Hermione was waving around?"  
  
He smirked. "A love letter Ron wrote her."  
  
Love letter? My brother? How cute is that?  
  
I just got back. You know, with all that Harry has been through, with Voldermort coming back and then, thankfully, being killed, and all those Death Eaters being after him, he's having a hard time trusting. I shouldn't be lying to him.  
  
BUT I'M NOT LYING!!!  
  
So why do I feel so freakishly deceitful? 


	10. Things Are Finally Moving Along, an Entr...

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.   
  
A/N: This chapter is somewhat devoid of humor, but certainly not lacking in romance. Perhaps you all will have forgiven me by the end of the chapter. Oh, and don't worry. There is a reason behind the speed of their relationship. Just give me time to explain. Don't write me off just yet. *wink*  
  
A/N 2: All personality traits of Professor Sinistra are attributed to She's a Star, drama-princess, and Gedia Kacela. If you are an author of any Snape/Sinistra stories and feel that you should also be credited for her demeanor in this story, please contact me.   
  
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Draco Malfoy  
  
October 29th 3:13 p.m.  
  
Have I ever mentioned that I hate Hogsmeade weekends? They are by far the most boring of the activities around here. The shops are interesting, but I'd much rather be in school than browsing the isles of Honeydukes. The Three Broomsticks is the only reason I come along with the other students here. At least I can get a drink in solace if I'm hateful enough to drive away my companions.  
  
And, luckily enough, today is one of my 'on' days.  
  
Ugh, there's Potter and his fan club. Minus Ginny, I feel compelled to add. Granger (I am attempting to get into a habit of ex-ing the whole "disgusting nicknames" thing, but cannot bring myself to call her by her first name) is holding Weasel's hand, and looking very gooey-eyed. They've been irritatingly all over each other for a few days.  
  
I'm certainly glad that isn't me. For if I ever look in the mirror and see that expression upon my face, I may stab my eyes out.  
  
Weasel keeps looking over here at me. I don't think Ginny has filled them in on our late night rendezvous so I wonder what he thinks I've done this time. Probably, he's just afraid I'll go over there and ruin their perfect little date.  
  
He has nothing to worry about, I assure you. I have no interest whatsoever in moving from my spot.   
  
Well, *that's* interesting.  
  
Professor Snape has just entered the Three Broomsticks with no other than… My astronomy teacher, Professor Sinistra.   
  
He's glaring at her and she looks rather smug.   
  
"I'm telling you, Severus, Hogwarts will be the perfect place."  
  
Uh oh. His jaw line is rather clenched. If I know my potions teacher, she might want to back off on whatever subject they're discussing.  
  
She is raising an eyebrow at him as they pass by. "How many times do I have to tell you? That look is not intimidating to anyone."  
  
Clearly she has not seen him glare at Longbottom with that same expression. The reaction that boy gets is… well, rather amusing, to be frank.  
  
I wonder what she wants to use Hogwarts for.  
  
I think I am going to wander the stores until the appropriate time to return to the castle. I've had about all the "fun" I can take for one afternoon.  
  
10:15 p.m.  
  
Well, I was wrong.  
  
Fun can come in many different forms.   
  
When I walked out of the Three Broomsticks, I went straight to Honeydukes, deciding to grab a couple of chocolate frogs to add to my current stash. Or, rather, that was where I *was* going, when I slammed right into Ginny Weasley.  
  
She froze.  
  
We hadn't spoken since our almost kiss the other day, and she looked rather stunned. A charming shade of red began to color her cheeks as she choked out words.  
  
"Uh, sorry Draco."   
  
I nodded at her apology, expecting her to skitter away, but to my surprise, she rested one of her hands on my arm. I glanced around, saw no one I recognized, and settled my gaze on her. Bright eyes stared at me.   
  
"I think we should talk," she said firmly, her voice stronger than it had previously been.  
  
Having no idea what this was about, I shrugged, and followed her from the view of the street.   
  
We were now in a deserted field.   
  
Alone.  
  
For some reason that I couldn't define, a shiver crawled up my back as that realization hit me.  
  
A sudden gust of air swept through the field, tossing her hair carelessly in her face. She chuckled self consciously, and attempted to tuck it behind her ears.  
  
An effort totally in vain.  
  
"What did you want to talk about," I asked, as conversationally as I could.  
  
"Us."  
  
"Us," I repeated. The word sounded odd on my lips.  
  
She nodded.   
  
"Right." She paused and took a deep breath. Her hands were shaking. What odd behavior.  
  
"Listen, we both know what almost happened the other day," she began.  
  
Indeed.  
  
I remained silent.  
  
"I just think… If I'm going to be tutoring you, these…" Her voice trailed away as she searched for the appropriate word.  
  
"Near-events," I offered.  
  
"Right. Near-events really need to be kept down to a bare minimum. You can't afford to…"   
  
She stopped, and yet again because of a loss for words. But the situation wasn't identical.   
  
I was moving in.  
  
Drawing closer to her with every step, I could feel my heart racing in my chest. But it wasn't desire.  
  
Not that.  
  
It couldn't be.  
  
I raised my hands to rest on either one of her cheeks, warming them at the contact.  
  
"Don't do this," she whispered, but her eyes, which held mine fast, were shouting something entirely different.  
  
"You overestimate my control," I returned.   
  
With that, her eyes slipped shut, and I knew there was no running away.  
  
Slowly, achingly slowly, I lowered my head and allowed my lips to find hers.  
  
And I could hear her quick intake of breath when they did.  
  
While her cheeks had been cold, her lips were hot. They tentatively slid across mine, and at this close contact, I could feel her tremble. She pulled me closer, still, as though searching for warmth in the autumn air.   
  
When it was finished, she stepped back, her balance somewhat off.  
  
"Why did you do that," she asked, with presence of mind I wouldn't have attributed her.  
  
I forced a smirk that I didn't really feel. "Why do you think?"  
  
"Dammit, Malfoy!"  
  
The force in her voice caught me somewhat off guard.  
  
This was it. One of many paramount moments bound to happen.   
  
"Do you *really* believe I need help in Potions?"  
  
A dawning realization lit up her eyes.   
  
"Oh."  
  
Oh?  
  
I practically tell the girl that I've been chasing her, and all she can say is, "Oh"?  
  
I'm so glad I'm not in love with her for real, or I really *would* stab my eyes out.  
  
She cleared her throat as I stood, waiting.  
  
"I need to think about this," she said, and turned away.  
  
And I haven't heard from her since. But I'm not concerned. There hasn't been a girl yet able to resist the Malfoy charms.  
  
And I'm *certainly* not worried about that… whatever I felt right before the kiss. It was a slip in my self control. It was bound to happen eventually. Better sooner rather than later.   
  
Really.  
  
Now all I've got to do is convince her that she really wants to date me and, preferably soon, that she loves me.   
  
It's all starting to come together. 


	11. My Decision, an Entry by Ginny

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story except Professor Kindred and all personality traits of Sinistra belong to the writers She's a Star, drama-princess, and Gedia Kacela. Please, try not to be too disappointed.  
  
A/N: Wow, my longest chapter yet. Gotta love it! I know some may say that Hermione is out of character, but I disagree. I think falling in love with Ron will soften her to a point that she'll realize that you can't control who you love. As for those of you who have mentioned it, I *did* consider making one chapter include each of Draco and Ginny's journal entries… I did consider it before I got this story started, but when I wrote it, it was just too confusing. Sorry.  
  
A/N 2: I am already thinking about the next story I am going to write (don't worry, this story is no where near done) and have decided to leave that up to you guys. I am either going to write a sequel to this story, about Draco and Ginny in a relationship, or a new story that involves a dance between our favorite pair, and the aftermath. So, what do you think?  
  
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Ginny Weasley  
  
October 29th 11:29 p.m.  
  
AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! I'm going to hell. If there is such a place, there's no doubt about it now. They are going to welcome me with open arms.  
  
I kissed Draco (There's no way I can think of him as Malfoy ever again).   
  
I kissed Draco.  
  
Or, rather, we kissed each other.  
  
And Merlin help me, I want to do it again and again and again.  
  
I wish I didn't. Every part of me is aching to hate him and desire him a long and painful death. I wish I could blame him entirely for the kiss this afternoon, but I can't. In fact, all I *can* do is hide in my room, fearful that everyone will see the guilt I'm sure is reflecting in my eyes.  
  
He said that he's been pretending to need help in Potions to get close to me.  
  
It worked.  
  
I shouldn't feel like this! I'm going crazy! He hates me. He must. He always has, and now suddenly...what, exactly? He sees charms in me that he didn't notice before? Yeah right.  
  
And what does he want? To date? For me to be Mrs. Amazing Bouncing Ferret? Hee hee, that's sort of funny.  
  
I've said over and over again that I don't want to date him.  
  
But I do.  
  
Ugh. I loathe myself. But it's true.  
  
I want to get to know him, to see if there's a chance that maybe, just maybe, there's a bit of humanity inside that evil, arrogant…   
  
I never did get those new nouns.  
  
How would we do this, anyway? My brother, Hermione, Harry… They'd kill him. I mean, he's done so much to them, hurt them, and tortured them. How could I defend this desire that I feel so deeply that my heart actually *hurts.*  
  
I am so beyond pathetic.  
  
I need to sleep-relax.   
  
October 30th 4:25 p.m.  
  
I swear this always happens! On the days that I would rather be put to death than run into Draco, I can't seem to avoid him adequately.  
  
Every single corner I have turned, there he's been. He's like those damn cockroaches that just don't die. (For the record, those things can live nine days without a head. NINE DAYS! At which point, I suspect, they starve to death.)  
  
And each time I see him, my heart goes into overdrive, and automatically my eyes lock with his. He says nothing, gives no indication that anything is different. Maybe he doesn't want to be with me after all. Maybe he just thinks that I'm good for an occasional kiss.  
  
I wish I could hate him.  
  
8:51 p.m.  
  
Alright, my hands are shaking. I can't believe it. Something amazing and unbelievably romantic has happened, to me, Ginny Weasley.  
  
I love my life.  
  
I was sitting at dinner, laughing at Ron as he unsuccessfully tried to ignore the kissing sounds most of the tables were making in his direction when a beautiful gray owl swooped in from overhead and landed right in front of me.   
  
A simple perfect rose was held firm in its beak, until I reached for it.  
  
A small parchment was attached to the flower, and with trembling fingers, I opened it.  
  
'Dear Ginny,  
  
Since a dozen roses were clearly a bit over the top, I am sending one perfect rose for one beautiful girl. I have not forgotten what happened the other day, but am trying to give you the space and time that you said you need. It isn't easy-don't misunderstand. But if it's what you need to realize that we deserve a chance, then I will wait forever.  
  
~Me'  
  
Harry snatched the note away, but the words dematerialized. It seems that no one has any clue who it's from.  
  
I would have never thought, even for an instant, that Draco could write such beautiful words. I glanced up at his table, and once again, his eyes met mine. And I smiled.  
  
And so did he.  
  
Wait a second. Someone's at the door.  
  
9:05 p.m.  
  
Well…  
  
That was Hermione.  
  
And she knows.  
  
I have never been so mortified in all my existence.  
  
She came inside and told the other girl, Sarah, that she needed to speak with me alone.  
  
Then she caught sight of the rose which was resting in a vase by my bed and sighed.  
  
"Ginny," she began.  
  
A cold fear took hold of me. "Yeah?"  
  
"Ginny, I know who the rose is from," she said softly.   
  
Automatically, for reasons I cannot explain, tears filled my eyes.  
  
Tears of shame.  
  
"You do," I choked out.  
  
She nodded. "Yes, I do."  
  
I swallowed. Well, it was over. Whatever decision I had been contemplating was being taken from me. She would tell Harry and Ron and not only would they be furious, but at least one of them would tell my parents, who would send me a letter stating how incredibly disappointed they are in me.  
  
"I'm so sorry," I moaned. I covered my head in my hands and allowed the tears to fall.  
  
She reached out and wrapped her arms around my, holding my close. Like a sister. A sister I've never had.  
  
"Ginny, don't cry," she said soothingly. "You've done nothing wrong." She paused and I sniffed. Rather pathetically.   
  
"Yes I have," I argued. The stress from the last couple of weeks was so overpowering, and it felt good to cry.  
  
"You can't control who you like." I could hear the smallest of smiles in her voice, and I looked up.   
  
"I should know better."   
  
"I should know better than to be in love with your brother."   
  
Was I hearing correctly? Was she actually attempting to sympathize with me?  
  
"Hermione…"  
  
"I'm not going to tell anyone that you like Malfoy."  
  
Hope rose in my throat.  
  
"You're not," I questioned, wiping the tears from my cheeks.  
  
She shook her head sadly. "No, Gin, I'm not."  
  
So many memories leapt to my mind. When she'd gone to McGonagall about Harry's broom when she thought it was from an evil killer (who turned out to not be evil at all), when she tried to stop Harry from leaping to conclusions about Sirius being in trouble in their 5th year. She'd always done exactly what she believed was right, no matter who it hurt.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Listen, I'm not going to say even for an instant that I believe this is a good idea," she said, shifting her place on my bed. "But I can see that you're hurting. And I think I can trust you enough to make your own decision. I mean, for Merlin's sake, you're certainly old enough to take hold of your own love life." She grinned. "No matter what Ron says."  
  
"He always wanted me to go back to liking Harry," I muttered, not even entirely aware that it'd been out loud.   
  
"Harry's a safe choice."  
  
"But he doesn't like me back."  
  
Hermione smiled and stood. "Ron loves you so much, you know."  
  
"I know. And I love him too. He just wants the best for me."  
  
"That's true."  
  
"I haven't even made a decision. It's just an option."  
  
As she turned to leave, she glanced back at me, clearly attempting to stifle a laugh. "No offence, Ginny, but I think we both know what your decision is going to be."  
  
And with that, she shut the door behind her, leaving me to my own thoughts.  
  
She's right.  
  
I already know what I'm going to do. I always have.   
  
I can't keep pretending. I've never been all that great at it, anyway. 


	12. The Insanity of Females, an Entry by Dra...

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything except for Professor Kindred (who, I know, I still haven't bought into the story, but she's coming-trust me). All personality traits of Professor Sinistra belong to the writers She's a Star, Gedia Kacela, and drama-princess and, of course, the characters belong to J.K. Rowling.   
  
A/N: Also, the name Auriga also belongs to the aforementioned writers.  
  
A/N 2: This chapter is shorter than most, length wise. I wanted the event taking place at the end of the chapter to be from Ginny's point of view, so I had to cut it short. The word count is about the same as normal, but…  
  
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Draco Malfoy  
  
October 31st 4:36 p.m.  
  
Everything is progressing just as I would have guessed. I sent her a very nice letter along with a single rose, and am patiently awaiting her response. I'm not nervous at all-there's no reason to be.   
  
Even though it's been 24 hours and I still haven't heard a word.  
  
In other news, I believe all the teachers are going crazy. If not all the teachers, at least Professor Sinistra.  
  
Yesterday, Professor Snape approached me in the hall, his eyes glittering in the light.  
  
"Have you thought any more of my offer, Draco," he questioned, cutting the small talk completely.  
  
I glanced at him and answered truthfully. "Yes, sir, I have."  
  
He didn't ask for me to continue. He waited silently for me to answer.  
  
"I believe I would enjoy it immensely."  
  
If I had expected him to smile, or give any indication of pleasure, I was most disappointed. For he simply gave a curt nod and muttered, "I suppose I'll have to mention this to Auriga."  
  
I forgot my indifferent demeanor and raised my eyebrows. "The astronomy teacher?" I asked in surprise.   
  
He sneered at me. "Not that it's any of your business, but, yes, that is who I am speaking of."  
  
A ridiculous idea struck me, and I had to fight back a laugh. It was insane, right? But just to be sure, I had to ask.   
  
"Why would you need to tell her I'll be staying with you?"  
  
He glared. "I have a class to teach. I don't have time to answer impertinent questions."  
  
And then he strode away, looking decidedly unnerved.  
  
Now if I were someone whose imagination ran away with him, I would be quick to think that Professor Sinistra is, for whatever reason, romantically involved with Professor Snape and that would be the reason he would have to mention my presence this summer. Because she, herself, spends a lot of time at Professor Snape's during the holidays and should be alerted that I will be there as well.  
  
But that's absurd. I, myself, don't mind Snape. He is, for lack of a better term, someone that I believe might actually understand what it meant when I sent my parents to Azkaban. I expect that that's the reason the two of us get along so well.  
  
But a female…   
  
Interested in Severus Snape?  
  
Like…. On purpose?  
  
Seems far fetched, if you ask me.  
  
8:33 p.m.  
  
It's finally working! About time, too. Not that I was losing faith in my ability to charm the masses or anything, but I was starting to wonder if she'd realize her feelings before February.   
  
But she has.  
  
Okay, so the word "love" has yet to be mentioned, but we're finally on our way.  
  
It all started about an hour ago. Everyone was finishing up their Halloween Feast and I got to my feet to go up to my room early. Honestly, you'd think a group of Slytherins could find something more entertaining to discuss than Granger and Weasley's get together. (Okay, so technically they were discussing who'd lost the pool for our house and it was rather irritating to know that I'd lost to Goyle.)  
  
So anyway, I had just stepped out of the view of those situated at the table when a hand shot out from around a corner and pulled me in the owner's general direction.  
  
Ginny Weasley was standing before me, complete with her hands on her hips.  
  
"What in Merlin's name is the matter with you," she snapped, looking very, very angry.  
  
And she's not pretty at all when she's angry.  
  
Right.  
  
So I gave my most complaisant smile and said, rather convincingly if I do say so myself, "Ginny, if you don't know what the 'matter' is, then you haven't been paying attention." And I was taking care to make sure that my voice was very soft and intense.   
  
She flushed deeply (not at all attractive-I like my women pale and colorless) and lowered her eyes. "Listen, Draco, I've been thinking." She paused. "Are you serious? About us, I mean?"  
  
I stood silent for a full 10 seconds before I realized she was actually asking.   
  
"Yes, Ginny, I am," I answered finally.  
  
A smile broke out across her face and my heart did an odd jump thing that was more than a little aggravating.   
  
"Well, then…" She licked her lips as though uncomfortable with this whole topic. "Then I'd like to give us a chance to," she responded, her voice barely above a whisper.  
  
I kissed her gently, then, as though to seal the deal. Then tried to ignore the warmth that spread throughout my entire body, the way my insides twisted into knots and the way the very smell of her was making my legs unsteady.  
  
I had been waiting, rather impatiently, for her to bring up the subject of her brother, and what she wanted to do about keeping our relationship under wraps and was quite pleased when it was addressed immediately. (I didn't want to bring it up, myself,-after all, who wants a boyfriend that's more concerned about his physical health than his girlfriend's happiness-but have you SEEN her brother? If we ditched our wands, he could undoubtedly rip me apart, limb from limb.)   
  
"I think that it may be a good idea for us to keep this just between us for now," she said, eyeing my physic, then looking up quickly, as though fearful offence would be taken.  
  
None was.  
  
"Whatever you would like," I replied.  
  
"It's not that I don't think you could hold you own if my brother decided to turn violent," she added swiftly, "but…"   
  
"I'm following," I assured her.  
  
"Okay." She sort of smiled shyly.   
  
An idea struck me then, a rather good one, if I do say so myself. "Listen, Ginny, would you like to get together later tonight? You know, as a first date of sorts."  
  
She appeared surprised, to say the least, but didn't hesitate with an answer. "Sure, Draco. That sounds nice."  
  
Score one for the Malfoy! We decided to meet here at 9.  
  
So with that we parted, and I headed up here, to the Astronomy Tower to set up. I've lit more candles around this room than most people have seen in their entire life and a rather quaint picnic blanket is set up on the floor, complete with sparkling cider in two crystal wine glasses (inherited from my parents). I figure we've both eaten dinner, so the only food of any kind I have is a gorgeous strawberry cheesecake (one food from muggles we used to eat around my house). I'm investing a lot in this dinner, so I hope it's appreciated.  
  
I considered transfiguring a table and chairs out of some telescopes, but from what I understand about females, I think the picnic idea is better.  
  
Well, here she comes, so I guess this is it for the evening. 


	13. First Date, an Entry by Ginny

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything. Well, except Professor Kindred, who has STILL not made an appearance. But I know she will. I'm just waiting for an appropriate time for her to enter.  
  
A/N: Beware of angst! I doubt I have ever, in all my writing of fan fiction, written a chapter that was as full of emotional drama. It was *exceptionally* sad, but remember, we're looking for a full redemption of Draco. He needs her to warm his heart. So I had to add this chapter in. I hope you'll forgive me.   
  
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Ginny Weasley  
  
October 31st 11:57 p.m.  
  
This was it. Tonight I had my first date ever with Draco Malfoy.   
  
And it was wonderful.  
  
The room was twinkling with candlelight when I stepped inside, and I fought to ignore my heart that was racing from inside my throat. A beautiful picnic blanket was set up on the floor, complete with cider filled crystal. And to top it all off, there stood Draco, his arms draped casually behind his back, his face devoid of all sarcasm.  
  
"Ginny," he addressed. He made no effort to move close, but watched with intelligent eyes as I took everything in.  
  
"You've done a good job with the place," I commented, stepping further inside.   
  
He smiled, showing his pearly whites. "It was nothing."  
  
He then took my hand and guided me to the blanket. Silence fell as he handed me my drink.  
  
"What will we toast to," he asked, lifting his glass.  
  
A list of possible suggestions leapt to mind. Forgiveness, trust, a new friendship. "Harry Potter," I answered automatically.  
  
His raised eyebrow spoke volumes that his voice could not.   
  
I rushed ahead. "Well, if, you know, it hadn't been for him, I wouldn't be sitting here with you."  
  
He continued to look doubtful as he answered reproachfully, "How do you figure that?"  
  
"If he'd been a little different, seen me as more than a sister…" I groped for words that wouldn't damage this already tremulous situation. "Then I might not have given up on him, and moved on to…"  
  
"Me," he finished.  
  
"Right."  
  
A long silence followed as he considered my words. "Alright then," he agreed finally, "to Potter. For being an-"  
  
"Draco," I interrupted swiftly.  
  
He rolled his eyes but I chose to ignore it. "Fine. To Potter." With a gentle 'click' his glass touched my own and we simultaneously raised them to our lips.  
  
And then an odd silence fell and uncertainty began to eat at the edge of my mind.  
  
What on earth was I DOING?! Draco and me? This was crazy. We'd only been on a date for less than 10 minutes and already we were out of conversation topics. I took another swallow and studied the outside sky intently.  
  
A familiar constellation caught my eye and I froze, the glass in my hand trembling ever so slightly.   
  
"Something wrong," he asked, undoubtedly surprised at my sudden inability to move.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
"Oh, convincing," he drawled sarcastically.  
  
I wanted to turn and glare at him with everything I had, but I couldn't remove my gaze from the cluster of stars.  
  
I heard him draw near, and turn his head so that he was seeing the same thing I was.  
  
"Orion's Belt?"   
  
Oh, Merlin help me, I was going to cry.   
  
I stood quickly, and allowed my hair to fall, shielding my face from his view.  
  
Which turned out to be of no consequence when he brushed the hair behind my ears and studied my expression.  
  
"What, Ginny?"  
  
And at that moment I had never hated anyone in my entire life as I hated Percy.  
  
"I should go," I forced the words from my lips but couldn't bring myself to actually follow through with the motion.  
  
"What is it, Ginny?"  
  
Merlin, why did he have to keep saying my name? With each syllable, my heart ached a little more. Ginny. I had always been Ginny.  
  
I longed to tear my eyes away from stars, but it seemed so hard. So instead I answered his question with as much indifference as I could muster. "Percy." The name sounded odd aloud, as it hadn't been spoken by any Weasley in over a year.  
  
A year when he'd drawn his wand on my father and had attempted to hand him over to the Death Eaters. A year when Bill had entered the scene and performed a disarming spell to save my father's life. A year when my brother, my loving, caring, gentle brother had been sent to Azkaban for his repeated service to Lord Voldermort.  
  
"Miss him," he asked, his voice conversational. But there was something behind it I couldn't identify, something that might have been understanding.  
  
No, I didn't. And I told him as much.   
  
"Then…" His words stopped there, but I already knew the question.  
  
Then why was I so upset?  
  
"You wouldn't understand," I replied simply.  
  
"I probably would. More than most, anyway."  
  
Of course he would. He'd been through the same experience that I had. For the most part, anyway.  
  
But to trust him… I wasn't sure I should. Or could. After all, it had been an evening I'd treasured in my heart, unable to tell anyone of what had transpired. I'd wanted to share it. To have someone that would tell me it would be okay, but as much as my family loved me, they weren't up to the task. Percy's memory was still too fresh.  
  
"It's not Orion's Belt," I found myself saying.  
  
He faltered. "It's not?" He didn't believe me. Oh well. He'd understand soon enough.  
  
I shook my head to emphasize my point. "Not according to Percy."  
  
I took a deep breath and attempted to explain.  
  
"There were always a lot of us. I mean, granted, I was born last, so, to me it would seem that way. Anyway, I always knew that my parents did the best they could to make sure that, as little money as they had, they were fair and equal with things they bought us. There were seven of us kids-we had enough reasons to fight without being unjustly treated."   
  
I paused for a moment to gather my nerve.  
  
"You know, of course, what happened my first year." I didn't glance at him to see his reaction. I assumed he nodded and moved on.  
  
"Right. Well, that summer was really hard. I got to a point where I was having nightmares every night of…him… I was so miserable. I was terrified to go to sleep, and it wasn't long before it began to show. I didn't tell anyone. I couldn't bare for them to worry about me anymore."  
  
The tears that had been brimming in my eyes how slid unchecked down my cheeks.  
  
"Percy was the one that discovered what was happening. He heard me screaming one evening, when I'd finally passed out on account of exhaustion. He was… Merlin, he was so *upset.* He loved me, then, he really did. He begged me to tell him what was wrong, and when I did, he didn't get scared, like I thought he might. Instead, he hugged me tight and gestured to Orion's Belt."  
  
I hated this part. Even in my head it sounded like a hokey, rehearsed stage plot.   
  
"And he said not to be scared to sleep anymore. That as long as the middle star in the Belt was shining, he'd be there to… You know… Protect me."  
  
There, my story was finished. Already, I could feel the blush crawling up, warming my cheeks, my tears.  
  
Draco sighed and pulled me into his arms. And for the first time since he'd been taken away, I could feel the pain of Percy's absence lesson. Just a little, but it helped.  
  
"We're all supposed to be over it by now," I whispered. "It's been a year. Voldermort is dead, Harry's safe, my family is alive and well. And they're getting happier with each day that passes. But he promised…" I wasn't crying. The tears were there, sure, but the sobs, for the first time, were blessedly absent.   
  
"I know it hurts," he returned, speaking for the first time in several minutes. "But it does get better."  
  
Which wasn't as hard to believe as it might have been a couple of minutes earlier.   
  
I pulled back gently, then, and turned away from the stars. A food I didn't recognize and hadn't noticed before now looked unbelievably desirable from its place on my plate.  
  
Draco followed my line of vision and then laughed. "Hungry?"  
  
I sat down instantly. "Actually, yes."  
  
He handed me a fork and took a bite of us. "It's quite good," he assured me, as I eyed the dessert uncertainly. "It's called Strawberry Cheesecake."  
  
"It's amazing," I exclaimed, as I reached for another bite.  
  
He smiled rather dashingly. "I invented it myself."  
  
Doubtful. But I nodded as though I believed him, my mood improving with each bite. I felt better, I really did. I had gotten to talk about Percy, a subject normally forbidden. And I knew now that someone was really truly listening.  
  
And, Merlin, that is good to know. 


	14. Tolerance, an Entry by Draco

Disclaimer: I continue to own nothing but Professor Kindred, who will be joining us next chapter.  
  
A/N: Alright, this is a short one. Just to prepare everyone for Chapter 15 which is already quite long. Please don't hurt me.   
  
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Draco Malfoy  
  
November 8th 5:15 p.m.  
  
This bet is becoming very, very dangerous.  
  
Because as each day passes, I find myself able to… increasingly tolerate Ginny Weasley.  
  
How this is possible, I've no idea. But there it is.  
  
I was completely surprised by her story of her brother, Percy. I'd met the guy before, certainly, but he'd never really impressed me as particularly loyal to his family. Much like my father, he was enamored by power and craved it with intensity.   
  
Who'd have guessed it would later cause him to turn on his family?  
  
I'd heard the story before but it was different to hear it from her.  
  
From someone he hurt.  
  
And I find myself wanting to fly to Azkaban, enter his cell, and choke him with my bare hands.  
  
Simply because he hurt Ginny.  
  
Which I am going to do in a couple month's time.  
  
My insides are knotting up at just the thought. Could it be fear?  
  
Certainly not. How dare you insinuate such a thing?  
  
But I will admit, I am beginning to look forward to encounters with the red haired weasel. Her smile is sort of…lightening. It makes the shadows of my existence a little less dark. And her laughter is rich and full, and, Merlin help me, catching. And her kisses…  
  
Her kisses…  
  
They taste of promise.  
  
…  
  
I *do* sound like a bad romance novel.  
  
But that's insane. For that would hint at an actual romance. Of which there is none, as the entire thing is an act. I don't care about her. And even if I thought that perhaps, for a fleeting instant, I might actually enjoy being with her beyond February, it wouldn't matter. Because in the end, she's still a Weasley, I'm still a Malfoy, doing exactly what my entire family has always been known for.  
  
Manipulating for personal gain.  
  
Got to love it when you live up to Daddy's expectations.  
  
Potions is getting to be my least favorite subject. I dread entering those damned dungeons and keep an eye on the time, inwardly encouraging the minutes to go by more quickly.  
  
Completely because of Ron Weasley and Professor Snape.  
  
The former far more so than the latter.  
  
Out of respect for my-for Ginny, I have been making an effort to keep the verbal abuse on her family, Potter, and Granger to a bare minimum. Indeed, I have been able to successfully avoid all confrontations with the dream team for almost a whole month. And Know-It-All and Mr. Boy Who Lived have had no problems giving me the same courtesy. But that Weasley… It's like he *wants* to fight with me.  
  
Like yesterday. I didn't say anything snide to any of them, was working hard on the potion I was attempting to concoct. But I chanced a look at Granger, to see if her coloring was identical to mine (it was) and Weasley saw me.   
  
And felt compelled to snap rather loudly, "Stop trying to compare your work to hers, you Death Eater."  
  
Of course, Professor Snape took 20 points from Gryffindor for the remark, but I didn't feel at all avenged. Although a Malfoy is born with thick skin, it always hits a nerve when a comment is made about my parents.   
  
Not that I care, of course. It's just… Aggravating.  
  
As for Snape, he's really starting to grate on my last nerve.  
  
I know, I *know* that he didn't see my dinner with Ginny. But the git keeps looking at me like he thinks he knows something that he finds *exceptionally* amusing. And he had the gall to say to me yesterday, "I didn't know you were a fan of cheesecake."  
  
How could he have known? This isn't one of those things you can pull out of your head and *guess.*  
  
And it's not like I'm not under enough stress as it is. I have a Transfiguration essay due at the end of this month, Quidditch practice three times a week, and a girlfriend that I'm attempting to see on the sly.  
  
…  
  
Girlfriend.  
  
Our match with Gryffindor is in January. Somehow, I think it may be hard to focus on the game, considering that Ginny is a chaser.  
  
Speaking of Quidditch, it's Gryffindor against Hufflepuff in 20 minutes. Better run.  
  
8:13 p.m.  
  
Gryffindor won. Not that there was any doubt, of course. Hufflepuff's team has gone downhill ever since their last captain graduated.   
  
Ginny… She's an amazing flier. She's quick, even if she hasn't got the best broom, and exceptionally level headed. She could see this situations unfolding before her and deduce the best action in a split second.   
  
I was proud of her.   
  
And when Potter finally got around to catching the Golden Snitch, meaning a win for Gryffindor, my heart leapt into my throat as if it had been Slytherin that had beat Hufflepuff.   
  
She found me alone after the match and leapt into my arms.  
  
"We won," she yelled breathlessly.   
  
I held her close and kissed her lips lightly. "That you did. You looked good up there."  
  
She smiled widely. "Not as good as Harry," she argued, her eyes dancing with laughter.  
  
"Cute."  
  
"I thought so."  
  
We stood out by the Quidditch field silently for a moment. To part ways would be to bid good evening and I wasn't quite ready for that yet.  
  
For reasons I have yet to identify.  
  
"Am I going to see you again soon," she asked.  
  
I mulled over my pile of homework and Quidditch practices and then answered, "Sure. How about later tonight?"  
  
She smirked. "I'll try to contain my enthusiasm."   
  
"We wouldn't want to get caught."  
  
"Yeah…" Her voice trailed away and I knew she was thinking about what would happen when she told her family. But there's no need, of course. Because when February comes I'll be out of her life, and all that'll be left of our relationship will be memories.  
  
And boy will I be glad when this charade is over. I'm starting to forget things.   
  
Like why I hate Weasleys so much.  
  
And how I managed to get by day after day, never really seeing the girl that was standing right there in front of me.  
  
"I should go," she said suddenly. I followed her line of vision and saw a couple of people from her house not too far away. They hadn't caught sight of us yet, but you can't leave anything to chance lately.  
  
I nodded my compliance and kissed her once more. "I'll see you later tonight, then."  
  
"Right. Only, let's stick to the Room of Requirement, shall we? I've got a funny feeling about continuously meeting in the Astronomy Tower. Every time Professor Sinistra looks at me, it's like she knows what's going on. Like she gives me these looks…"   
  
"Okay," I agreed hastily. "Room of Requirement, say, 9:00?"  
  
"See you then."  
  
She darted off and I watched her go, then shook my head and headed in the other direction.  
  
I think I'm going crazy. Because as I approached the school, a funny thought struck me, startling me more than words can say.   
  
'February is too close.' 


	15. The Longest Day, an Entry by Ginny

Disclaimer: Oh yes, you're right. I own everything. Oh, wait, forgot. I own NOTHING. Except Professor Kindred, who is finally making her appearance in this chapter.   
  
A/N: The first part of this chapter is mainly a way for me to get over the tragedy that is the young James. So I decided to incorporate this to set a few things straight. Oh, rather, as I would like to see them.   
  
A/N 2: Okay, I just finished writing this stinking chapter (It took me, like, 5 days to complete this thing. And most of my other chapters take one sitting. So you had BETTER appreciate it! Just kidding.) and it's so depressing. And a bit complicated. I hope you don't write me off after this. Don't worry, though. I'll be back on track with the humor next time. Just don't hurt me.   
  
A/N 3: Special thanks to CakeTwins, who went through this chapter and gave me tons of helpful hints. Thanks, Marion!  
  
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Ginny Weasley   
  
November 8th 10:53 p.m.   
  
And thus ends the longest night of my entire existence.   
  
Everything began fine. Gryffindor had beaten Hufflepuff at Quidditch earlier, and I was given a congratulatory kiss by Draco. But upon seeing a couple of people from my own house, we departed quickly, and agreed to meet in the Room of Requirement at 9 p.m.   
  
…Which would be when things started going downhill.   
  
I raced up to the Gryffindor Common Room, taking the stairs two at a time, biting back the telltale smile dancing across my lips. The day, I had decided, was off to a very good start.   
  
Just goes to show what I know.   
  
Anyway, I practically *threw* the password at the Fat Lady ("Bezoar!") and raced inside.   
  
…And was promptly halted by a familiar and amused voice calling, "Hey, Gin, where's the fire?"   
  
Inwardly I winced. Of course, I hadn't been under the impression that the Common Room might be empty, but it would have been nice. However, instead, I found myself staring into the bright green eyes of Harry Potter, and watched by the other students sitting around the room.   
  
"I just…" I fumbled for a lie, ignoring the guilt tearing my heart. I spotted the candy that was being dished out in celebration, and answered with the first thing that came to mind. "I wanted to make sure I got my share of the food." To prove my (fake) point, I reached for some sugar quills and slid one into my mouth.   
  
Harry nodded, his trust reflecting in his smile. "When you've had your fill, do you think I could talk to you?" he asked.   
  
I glanced surreptitiously at the time and swallowed the sigh of frustration rising in my throat. "Well, I'm about done," I said, ignoring his raised eyebrows. "What can I do for you?"   
  
His faced automatically darkened, and for the first time, I could believe that this was the boy that had defeated the Dark Lord. Many a time. "I need to go talk to a teacher about something, and…" His voiced dropped to a whisper. "I would really appreciate it if you could come with me." Pause. "This isn't a conversation I'd like to have alone."   
  
He must have seen the inner conflict I was experiencing, for he hastened to add, "I know it's an inconvenience, but it'd really mean a lot."   
  
"What about Ron or Hermione?" I tried not to think about the rudeness in my tone.   
  
He licked his lips. "They're, uh, busy."   
  
Busy.   
  
Why did my brother have to choose *this* moment to have a good snog with his girlfriend?   
  
I crumbled. Of course I did. But don't start thinking that it was some residue of romantic feeling I was hiding. No, it was the knowledge that there was no way I could get out of this without raising suspicion. Besides, Harry's my friend and I care about him. And when a friend tells you that they need you, you step up to the occasion.  
  
"Sure, Harry," I agreed, hoping that Draco would understand.   
  
He visibly relaxed, and I found myself wondering just what had him so torn up that he had to talk about it right away, instead of waiting for Ron or Hermione to be available.   
  
I soon found out.   
  
When I realized we were making our way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, I glanced at my friend. What business could Harry possibly have with Professor Kindred?   
  
He knocked politely, and then swung the door open as we were permitted entry.   
  
Professor Kindred sat at her desk, poring over the previous night's homework assignments, grading them in quick succession.   
  
When she saw Harry and I standing before her, she gave an encouraging grin. "What can I do for you two this evening? I would have guessed that you'd be out celebrating. Need some help with this evening's assignment?"   
  
I didn't answer. This conversation wasn't really for me.   
  
Harry shook his head slowly. "We're not here for extra help, Professor."   
  
Her smile wavered slightly as she took her glasses off her face and laid them on the desk. The bright blue eyes that she stared up at Harry with seemed to convey understanding.   
  
"I see."   
  
There was a long silence as Harry seemed to fight for words. "I need to talk to you about my dad."   
  
Professor Kindred stood, and walked to the window. "Harry," she said softly, "you're asking the wrong person. I didn't really know James that well. You should really be talking to Remus for-"   
  
He cut her off sharply. "I can't talk to him, Professor. He was my father's friend and I need someone that won't be biased."   
  
She shifted, but didn't answer.   
  
"I know you dated Professor Lupin."   
  
At this *I* glanced up. Kindred and Lupin? The lives of the teachers at Hogwarts keep getting more and more interesting. Just the other day Draco was telling me he is *convinced* that Snape and Sinistra are together. But I digress.   
  
She coughed. "Yes, I did."   
  
"Then you did *know* my father."   
  
Another cough. "I suppose I did, sort of. But Harry, you need to understand, my relationship with Remus ended in our 5th year. After that, I really didn't have any communication with the Marauders."   
  
He seemed surprised at this comment, but didn't respond. "I need to ask you a question about my father in his 5th year."   
  
Kindred shifted and I wondered if she knew what was coming. Because, frankly, I had no idea.   
  
He started slowly. "A couple of years ago, in my 5th year, Snape was teaching me Occlumency, and one day he stepped out. And I happened to see his Pensieve and . . . I had a peek." Seeing the expression on our teacher's face, he rushed ahead. "I'm not proud of it. It was just… Something I did. Anyway, I looked inside, and there was memory that he'd had. Of *his* 5th year. And it had my dad. They were taking an O.W.L. and they went outside…" His voice trailed away, and Kindred spoke up.   
  
"I remember." Her voice was very soft.   
  
Pain was very clear on Harry's face as he turned to me to explain.   
  
"My dad… He was acting like Malfoy." At the mention of the familiar name, a blush crept up my cheeks, though, luckily, unnoticed. "He was torturing Snape, bullying him. Just because Sirius was bored."   
  
A shiver crawled up my spine. James Potter? Like Draco Malfoy?   
  
A surprise at every turn.   
  
Kindred sighed deeply, drawing back our attention. "Harry, first of all, you should know, your father was a wonderful man."   
  
He nodded.   
  
She sighed again and returned to her chair. "He loved you and your mother *so deeply.* There just aren't words for that kind of love."   
  
"I mean no disrespect, Professor, but I know all that." His voice was strong, but shook slightly with impatience. "But I just need to hear… What he was like *then.*"   
  
"Have a seat."   
  
He and I did as requested.   
  
"When I met your father," she began, her eyes meeting his, "I was in my 4th year. Ravenclaw, in case you're wondering. Anyway, Remus and I started spending a lot of time together, and we became friends. It was hard not to be friends with that man. He had a great deal of karma, the kind that made you just want to be around him all the time. He told me when we started dating about being a werewolf, and I can honestly say it didn't bother me. I knew we would figure out a way around it if our relationship should get serious. In fact, all things considered, he and I had a wonderful relationship. But the only problem was… Well, it was his friends."   
  
She wasn't looking at Harry.   
  
"Peter had always disturbed me a little bit. The kind to stand in the shadow of the other three, he was. And Sirius… Well, I expect you both know about his family?"   
  
We nodded.   
  
"He was having such a hard time in those days. Trying to get himself sorted out. With a mother like his, who needs Death Eaters, right? So it was to be expected that his morals were a little, uh, lacking."   
  
This already didn't sound good.   
  
"But James… That kid had *everything.*" She looked so sad, I could have sworn the room drooped in unhappiness as well. "And of course, when you're that age, having everything does nothing but taint your view of the world. Makes you see everything in black and white. And Snape, Merlin help him, was very much in the black area." She shook her head. "Severus…. You kids couldn't really know how he was. He was so… Mean. Outright mean."   
  
Pursing her lips, she seemed to be wrestling with how much to tell us. "He would insult anyone that didn't meet his standard of perfection. He called Lily all kinds of names, and even if she never said anything, we all knew it hurt her. James especially, could tell. Even then, it was hard to miss the fact that he was crazy about your mom," she told Harry. "It drove him mad to see her in pain. And that day… It's hard to forget. I think Remus, even though he didn't say it, was shocked at the cruel streak James had shown."   
  
Harry was beginning to look sickened, and I doubted that he had made the right decision by talking to her. Until she added, "But it wasn't entirely unprovoked."   
  
He looked up hopefully.   
  
"Severus isn't the same man he used to be either," she continued. "Like I've said, he was so mean. And he could be heartless."  
  
"Oh, yeah, right," I snapped, "he's not like that at *all* these days."  
  
It seemed, for a second, as though she might smile, but instead she continued. "Well, he was at his worst this particular day. He had just gotten into a shouting match with Auriga Sinistra-" And odd expression danced across her features, and then scattered away. "Not that different from these days, to be frank. Anyway, he was on the war path. Anyone watching could see that he was positively furious. So it was really my own fault."   
  
"Your own fault?" This time it was me that had spoken.   
  
She winced. "I… Well… He cursed me."   
  
Cursed her?! If I thought I hated him before…   
  
She must have seen the looks of rage dawning in our eyes as she continued quickly. "You kids *must remember* above all else, people change. Yes, he cursed me, because I was goading him. I was-and am-Auriga's friend. I was picking on him for some stupid things, and he cursed me... and shouted at Lily when she tried to come and help. James, Remus…. They missed the entire thing. And when they heard, of course, it was too late. Curses can't just be lifted by other wizards, you know-"   
  
Suspicion tugged at my senses.   
  
"What was it?"   
  
She shrugged, clearly in an effort to make it seem like no big deal. "Just a Mal Amoura."   
  
I blinked as Harry turned to me. "What's a 'Mal Amoura?'"   
  
"It means that he made it so I was unable to be loved." She answered with a sadness that seemed to engulf her.   
  
Harry stared.   
  
"That's why you and Professor Lupin broke up?" I ventured.   
  
"That's why."   
  
She cleared her throat, then continued. "It's an easy enough curse to identify, but it can't be helped. It has to be lifted by the person who cast it, completely of their own free will. The wizard can't have been threatened into it or anything. It's been quite the inconvenience in my adult years, but he did lift it. About a year ago."   
  
She didn't say it, but the sentence hung in the air. 'And by that time, Remus was long gone.'   
  
"Anyway, all four of them found out, but Remus didn't – couldn't care. He was the one that I had been dating, after all; the one that I'd fallen in love with. His feelings evaporated, and he did nothing. But James... He was so angry. After all, all things considered, Severus had essentially snatched his friend's girlfriend away. And he acted on his impulses."   
  
She slid her glasses back onto her face. "Listen to me. Things are not always as they seem. And, as James learned, they are not always black and white. You can't make a judgment on someone's character unless you completely understand them. We all grew up. Severus became a respected Potions Master and, believe it or not, he and I settled our differences. James married Lily, and as for me-" She gestured to her desk with fondness. "I have the job Severus wants. What more could I ask for?"   
  
I chanced a glance at Harry and exhaled the breath I had been unaware I was holding. He looked okay. Better, in fact. He could accept her story and let go whatever anger he may have been feeling for his father.   
  
And me? I was still trying to grasp that Draco had been compared to Harry's father.   
  
We left the room, and I rested my eyes on Harry.   
  
"You alright?"   
  
He nodded.   
  
As we approached the Common Room, I went to make a hasty exit but was halted when Harry rested a hand on my arm.  
  
"Ginny, I know this whole thing must have been kind of weird for you," he said, "but I really appreciate you coming along. If Professor Kindred had said that my father was his generation's Draco Malfoy, I just wanted someone to be there to pick me up off the floor when I passed out."  
  
I grinned, pretending not to feel my insides freeze at the insult of my boyfriend. "No problem. But I've really got to go." He nodded, and I turned, and raced for the Room of Requirement, over an hour late for my date with Draco.   
  
And that boy gets *scary* when he's mad.   
  
"You're late," he snapped, as I cautiously shut the door behind me.   
  
I frowned at his tone, but explained. "I'm sorry. Harry asked me to help him with something-"   
  
"Potter?!" His incredulous exclamation cut me off. "You blew me off to spend the evening with POTTER?!?!"   
  
Clearly, this was not going to go as well as I had previously surmised.   
  
"What did you *want* me to do, Draco?" I hissed. "He needed me! I'm his friend and I couldn't just let him suffer alone."  
  
"Cause heaven forbid you leave the infamous Potter to sort out his own mess to spend time with *me.*"  
  
"And besides, even if I *had* decided to say no, he would have known something was up, and probably asked me all sorts of uncomfortable questions."  
  
"Perhaps if you'd had the presence of mind to *lie!*"   
  
"Well, gee, I'm sorry. I'm not quite as able with lies as my Death-Eater-Boyfriend."   
  
His eyes flashed dangerously and regret immediately followed.   
  
'Was that out loud?' I wondered silently.   
  
He glared at me for a full minute before he answered, his voice trembling with anger. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear," he said. "You don't understand me, or my family. So why don't you back off and leave me alone?"   
  
Ignoring the painful crush of my heart, I met his eyes and snapped in return, "Nobody asked you to *beg* me to date you, Malfoy."   
  
He muttered something under his breath and then said, "Nobody forced you to go out with me, either, Weasel."   
  
"Maybe I was just terrified of what you'd do if I said no."   
  
I am rather surprised that thunder wasn't crackling in the room, as furious as we both were.   
  
"Get out," he commanded. His face was red, and his fists were clenched, and he was clearly making an effort to avoid hexing me.   
  
"This is my room as much as it is yours."   
  
I wasn't going to make it easy for him. Too many people, I decided, had let that kid have all he wanted.   
  
"Get out, Weasel, or I cannot be responsible for what I do."   
  
"How is that any different from normal, Ferret Boy?"   
  
With that, he swept past me, and out, slamming the door behind him. Frustration and grief overcame me, and I broke down right then and there, falling unceremoniously onto the couch. And when I looked up, there, on a nearby table, rested a large box of tissues.   
  
So now I'm in bed. Six people have approached me and asked why I look so glum since my argument with Malfoy, and to each I have said the same thing, "I don't want to talk about it."   
  
But I couldn't overlook the comprehension on Hermione's face as I spouted to her my rehearsed words.   
  
I'm going to sleep. Maybe I'll wake up and the day won't have started yet.   
  
And maybe I won't have let my temper destroy the one perfect thing in my life. 


	16. The World May Never Know, an Entry by Dr...

Disclaimer: I continuously own nothing. Well, that is, except for Professor Kindred.  
  
A/N: Woo hoo! I'm still kicking. Thanks for the reviews. They mean a lot. And I am sorry about the last chapter. That should be the final depressing one for quite a while.  
  
A/N 2: The events in this chapter mentioned by Snape and Sinistra (washing hair, and spelling STAR) are mentioned in detail in the stories by She's a Star and Gedia Kacela-Lamantations and Diaries.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco Malfoy  
  
November 17th 6:15 a.m.  
  
That damn Ginny Weasley. She is far more trouble than she is worth.  
  
After our argument in the Room of Requirement, she's taking care to avoid me at every turn. Her face pales on the rare occasions that I do see her, and, straightening her shoulders, she passes me by without a look in my direction. As I firmly believe that I have done nothing wrong, I refuse to make any effort if she is not.  
  
So yesterday, frustrated with the idea of losing all that galleons, I approached Pansy to see if my charm could buy my way out of this mess.  
  
If you don't know how that went, you haven't been paying attention at all.  
  
It's really rather odd. For the last 9 days I have been living my life as I will when Valentine's Day has come and gone, and there is something I'm starting to feel that had never occurred to me before.   
  
A desire to see that infectious smile spreading broadly. A need to feel her fingers woven through my own.  
  
Perhaps I am catching something.  
  
November 18th 5:58 p.m.  
  
My malady (as I am beginning to refer to my weakness for Ginny) is making me go crazy.  
  
And, to my disdain, reducing me to a pathetic excuse for a wizard.   
  
That girl is filling my every thought. I can't concentrate on anything.-not Charms or Transfiguration, or even Potions. Yesterday I actually caught myself writing her initials on my Astronomy test! (Professor Sinistra found it rather amusing, but didn't say anything aloud to the class, thank Merlin.) It was horrifying, not to mention humiliating on many different levels.   
  
I'm starting to sound like…  
  
No.  
  
I can't say it.  
  
Well, fine.   
  
I'm starting to sound like Weasel.  
  
Where's that fork…?  
  
Okay, I'm not going to stab my eyes out, but ONLY because I know what a hindrance it would be to only have one eye when I forgive Ginny.   
  
And I will. When she apologizes for her behavior.  
  
Which she will.  
  
Right.  
  
8:23 p.m.  
  
I have just witnessed the most hilarious scene of my entire existence. Would you like me to relate?  
  
Okay, I will.  
  
It was dinner time. I was finishing the meal, chewing silently on the last cookie at my table, when Dumbledore got to his feet and requested the attention of the students.  
  
He was smiling broadly as he said, "Good evening everyone." There was a silence in the room that could only be obtained by our Headmaster. "I have wonderful news, and though I'd love to deliver it myself, I'm sure that two of Hogwarts' teachers are more appropriate choices."  
  
Professor Sinistra got to her feet, alone, then turned to frown at Professor Snape.  
  
"Stand up, you arrogant moron," I-and, undoubtedly, most of the Great Hall-heard her snap.  
  
Glaring all the way, he stood, with his arms crossed. "Auriga," he managed, through tightly clenched lips, "do you really feel this is necessary?"  
  
Ignoring him, she addressed the students. "The wonderful news that Professor Dumbledore has brought to your attention concerns the Potions Master and myself. You see, he and I are, for reasons we have yet to discover, getting married." She paused as through expecting applause. Though most of us were so flabbergasted all we could do was stare in shock. "Here at Hogwarts," she continued.   
  
Feeling a deep sympathy for my favorite teacher, I turned my attention to Snape, who hadn't moved an inch. His face was arranged into a careful and angry sneer, as though DARING someone to laugh.   
  
No one did. I, for one, was far too terrified to even crack a smile.  
  
Then, to my amazement, Snape began to uncross his arms. Slowly, he reached for the Astronomy teacher's hand, and grasped it firmly in his own.  
  
She, too, looked rather disconcerted by this act of affection, and stared at him, her eyebrows raised. But he wasn't looking at her, he was still watching the sea of faces watching.  
  
Sinistra cleared her throat. "And, due its location, Severus and I would be thrilled if you all could make it."  
  
I, for one, can't really picture Snape being "thrilled" about anything except for, perhaps…. Uh…. Well…   
  
Never mind.   
  
She went to sit down, but the Headmaster began to clap enthusiastically. The rest of the room followed suit, and it was hard to tune out the teasing calls of, "Get 'em, Snape!" from various students, not excluding Potter. (In case you were wondering, the Groom-To-Be did *not* look amused.)   
  
Sinistra grinned slyly and stole a look at the disgusted man holding her hand.   
  
"Oh, and by the way," she added suddenly, never discarding that look of mischief, "unless I miss my guess, Professor Snape is still on the market for a best man, so if any of you boys know how to wash hair, I'm sure he'll accept an application."  
  
Snape slid a glance at her in return and then smirked. "And if any of the females have the ability to spell star, I'm sure Professor Sinistra will consider *your* application."  
  
Instead of stalking off right then and there, she grinned at her fiancée (Ugh. I know I was right, but still, this whole "marriage" thing is a bit much.) and muttered, "I love you."  
  
And to my great astonishment, and the astonishment of all those sitting by me, he pushed her glasses back up on her nose and returned with, "I love you too."  
  
Dumbledore reached for a glass, and, finding it with his long fingers, raised it in congratulations. "To Auriga and Severus. May they find great happiness in their lifetime together."  
  
I distinctly heard Snape mutter, "Fat chance," as he returned to his seat.  
  
And so, I'm sure, did Sinistra-but she didn't seem to care.  
  
Fifteen minutes later I was on my way down the hall, when I heard the imposing steps of the Potions Master closing in on me. To quicken my stride would have been out of character and besides, I was very interested in what he would say.  
  
So I slowed to a stop and turned my steady gaze on the man.  
  
"I believe I know how to wash hair, sir," I mocked.  
  
He frowned. "Watch your mouth, Malfoy."  
  
I obliged by ignoring the impulse to continue with a sting of jokes; instead, I simply waited for him to say whatever it was he wanted to say.  
  
He went straight to the point. "I still want you to spend the holiday with me, Draco," he said firmly.  
  
"Alright. Does she mind?"  
  
"No, she doesn't."  
  
For a moment neither of us said nothing. And finally I found myself saying, "I didn't get to congratulate you properly." I reached out my hand, and he shook it. "So congratulations."  
  
He looked rather out of place as the Groom to Be, but that didn't change the fact that he was happy, and I could tell.  
  
Which of course causes me to fall back into depression. He has a woman that loves him and that he loves in return. And as for me…  
  
Well, it's not like I'll ever have feelings like those anyway.  
  
I am such a pathetic excuse for a wizard, I swear. But I am not a Death Eater. And I would never want to be. Although arrogant and pompous are inarguably adjectives that are accurately used to describe yours truly, evil is not. I did my part. I sent my parents to Azkaban. So how is it that people of the wizarding community would believe that I could ever be like them?  
  
Especially people like the warm hearted, muggle loving, gentle Ginny Weasley?  
  
The world may never know. 


End file.
